


Carnival of Rust

by Aerys_Krystie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angsty Jackson, Curious Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Happy Stiles Stilinski, Holidays, M/M, Magic, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Derek Hale, Puberty is painful, Shifters, Slow Build, Slow Romance, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 86,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerys_Krystie/pseuds/Aerys_Krystie
Summary: At the ages of eight, Stiles and Jackson are sent to live within the protection of the Hale pack. Derek has been assigned as Jackson’s protector, something Jackson doesn’t want. Stiles has been handed to Peter, who can think of a dozen other ways to be tortured than dealing with a child that could kill him in an instant.Once they settle down with the Hale pack, Stiles and Jackson become targets for a group known only as ‘The Collectors.’ With an alpha werewolf at their beck and call, The Collectors want Stiles and Jackson, regardless of who protects them.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore
Comments: 59
Kudos: 62





	1. Age 8

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

**Theme:** Complete AU.

**Plot:** At the ages of eight, Stiles and Jackson are sent to live within the protection of the Hale pack. Derek has been assigned as Jackson’s protector, something Jackson doesn’t want. Stiles has been handed to Peter, who can think of a dozen other ways to be tortured than dealing with a child that could kill him in an instant.

Once they settle down with the Hale pack, Stiles and Jackson become targets for a group known only as ‘The Collectors.’ With an alpha werewolf at their beck and call, The Collectors want Stiles and Jackson, regardless of who protects them.

**Warnings:** Slash, language, violence, OOC and OC.

**Disclaimer:** Everything of and referring to _Teen Wolf_ is not mine. This is a fan-made, non-profit story. Please support the official release.

**Author’s Note:** I know Stiles used to call himself ‘Mischief’ when he was younger. I changed that, for obvious reasons. Just wanted to throw that out, before I fans ripping into me about it. Thank you and please enjoy.

Also, that tag was not a joke! I have no idea who to pair Stiles with. Help?

* * *

**Age 8**

“I’m a metal wolf,” the scrawny kid was saying and Jackson just stared at him. He didn’t start with his name, which was something Jackson was always taught was proper. “I’m one of three in the world. What about you?”

The pair of them were in the backseat of a car. Jackson hadn’t wanted to be there, but his parents had told him that he must live with in a different State until he was twenty-one. The moment he left his hometown, Jackson missed it. He missed his friends and his dogs. Then he had touched down in California and was greeted by a surly teenager and a lovely older woman, who had taken him to the car. Jackson had been even less impressed to see another shifter in the backseat.

“I’m Jackson Whittemore,” he finally said and held his hand out.

The other tilted his head and took Jackson’s hand. “Stiles,” he said and grinned as Jackson raised an eyebrow. “My Mom said I always called myself that, so I just stuck with it.”

“Stiles,” Jackson tested and frowned. “Interesting.”

Stiles grinned again and sat back. “What wolf are you?”

“Ice wolf,” Jackson lied easily, knowing that none of them could detect it.

The lie was told so often that Jackson actually believed it. His parents had forced him to say it until he believed it, despite knowing he wasn’t one. Since before he could walk, he was taught to keep his eyes one color. When he could walk, he was told to only ever use his ice magic. He was an abomination in the eyes of the shifter world. His parents were his adoptive parents and he was told that a recurring nightmare was actually his first memory.

After all that, he was being shipped off to California to live within the protection of a werewolf pack. The Hales had happily agreed to have the pair of them and Jackson didn’t understand it. Shifter hunters were different from werewolf hunters. Even at their young age, he and Stiles could easily kill a werewolf hunter. They didn’t have a defense against their magic.

The surly teenager in the passenger seat turned and looked at him, as though expecting Jackson to say something contradictory. Jackson had no idea if the werewolves knew about him, but he wasn’t going to tell strangers the truth. The less they knew, the less likely they were to be hunted and tortured.

Glancing at Stiles, Jackson felt jealousy. Stiles might be rare, but he wasn’t an extinct breed. He had others that he could learn from, others that had to struggle before him. Jackson had no mentor to teach him, except a dragon that hated spending time around wolves. Jackson was almost certain he got most of his disdain for life from that dragon, but he was a damn good teacher.

The teen was still staring at him and Jackson glared at him. “It’s impolite to stare,” he said acidly and the teen raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t push him, Derek,” the woman said with a smile. “We may be immune to his magic, but the car isn’t.”

Derek nodded and faced forward. Jackson huffed quietly and stared out the window, while Stiles rattled on about something to do with his magic. If anyone was to pick up the lie, it should have been Stiles. He would know that most ice wolves were common. For once, Jackson wished he could be common. He didn’t want to be responsible for deaths.

Raising his eyes to the roof of the cabin, Jackson frowned. It was highly possible that Stiles knew about him and wasn’t bringing it up. Jackson didn’t know who he could trust. His parents weren’t his real parents, having taken him in because his real parents ran with their pack. He didn’t know a single member of the Hale pack, so he had no idea how trustworthy they were.

Looking at Stiles, Jackson shook his head. In his excitement, Stiles’ magic had dropped and his eyes were swirling between ruby and gold. It was a pretty combination and when Stiles looked at him expectantly, Jackson just shrugged. Only his parents had ever seen his colors. His coloring wasn’t meant to exist, just like him. If the pack hadn’t killed the hunter that murdered his parents, he wouldn’t be there.

The town they entered reminded Jackson a lot of his own. He wasn’t going to admit that he was homesick already, as Stiles seemed full of excitement. Jackson didn’t understand how Stiles could be excited about being away from his family. Both were told that their families would visit, on occasion, mostly around the holidays. Jackson didn’t want that. If he was going to see his family, he’d rather go home for that. He wanted to see his dogs more than his parents.

The car went into a preserve and Jackson frowned. He looked at his Versace outfit and knew that the rest of his designer clothes would be a pain to keep clean. The house they pulled up to had Jackson raising an eyebrow. It didn’t look big enough for his closet, let alone a place for him to sleep.

The car stopped and the engine was killed. The woman looked over her shoulder, smiling warmly. “Welcome home, kiddos,” she said and got out, pulling the seat forward for Stiles.

“You’re joking,” Jackson said as he continued to stare at the house. “My _closet_ won’t fit in there.”

The woman ducked her head. “I’m sorry, Jackson. You and Stiles will be sharing a room for the time being, so you’ll just have to decide what’s important and what isn’t.”

Jackson felt like he was just slapped. His entire closet was important. His parents had paid a fortune for his clothing and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to flaunt it. He could use his magic to create a bigger space for his clothes, but something told him that he wasn’t allowed that. He was advanced enough to do it, as well.

The seat in front of him was pulled forward and Jackson’s eyes went to it. His eyes flickered to the hand the teen offered him and Jackson wrinkled his nose. He pushed the hand away and slipped out of the car gracefully. He didn’t need anyone to help him with anything. The teen didn’t say anything, just closed the door and Jackson groaned as his shoes slipped on the decaying leaflitter. He was going to kill his parents.

\--

The room he was sharing with Stiles was larger than he expected. His own room was still twice the size, but he figured he could keep some of the less delicate clothes in their suitcases. Stiles had offered to take the tallboy for his clothes and let Jackson have the closet entirely. Jackson had frowned at him, but nodded and gave a very curt ‘thank you.’

The woman had joined them, helping them put their clothing away. It seemed her name was Talia and she had two other children, Laura and Cora. Both were out for the moment, but she assured them introductions would happen at dinner. Her husband was no longer in the picture and her brother, Peter was patrolling for the moment. Jackson had simply nodded, while Stiles asked dozens of questions.

“May I go for a walk?” Jackson asked, staring out the window. He could feel something calling his attention and figured there was a tree in need.

“Of course,” Talia said with a smile. “You can take Derek with you. He’ll be your protector.”

Jackson stared at her. “Why don’t you just insult my dead mother, while you’re at it?” he demanded and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need a protector.”

Talia gave him a small smile. “While you’re here, Derek will be following you everywhere. At school, you and Stiles will be in the same class, so you can watch each other’s backs,” she explained patiently, folding one of Stiles’ shirts.

“Who’s my protector, then?” Stiles asked, actually sounding excited about it.

Jackson just shook his head and left the room, going down the stairs. He wasn’t surprised to see Derek waiting for him at the front door. He slipped outside and looked around, feeling the tug towards the left. He walked that way, taking turns as they came up and stopped in front of a birch tree. He shook his head and moved to a large oak tree, placing his palm on the trunk.

A tingle ran through his body and Jackson laughed, despite himself. “You’re old,” he said and tilted his head back, grinning up at the large canopy. “But…you’re not hurt.”

Turning around, Jackson went over to a sycamore and shook his head. The tree was definitely in that area, but he wasn’t sure which one it was. None of them were screaming for his help and he wasn’t going to lie, he did enjoy it out there. Even though Derek was with him, watching him curiously, he felt at ease. He moved between the trunks, glancing at the trees.

In front of a cedar, Jackson gasped softly. “You’re definitely hurt,” he whispered, placing his hand on the trunk. He winced as he felt the pain course over his body. He closed his eyes, focusing on his magic. It buzzed through his body and he put the healing energy into the tree. He smiled and opened his eyes, stepping back. “There you go.”

The infection in the tree would clear up by the next day and the life would return. Jackson grabbed one of the fallen leaves and made his way back to the house. There was another set of footsteps and he spun around, staring at the other werewolf that was following them. He had a similar scent to Talia and assumed that was Peter, since the scent was only partly similar to Derek’s.

“I’m guessing the shifters have arrived,” Peter said and grinned. “I can’t wait to meet mine. Hello, little one.” He held his hand out and Jackson glared at it.

“He doesn’t like that,” Derek said with an amused twinkle to his eyes. “I think he has a superiority complex.”

“Definitely abandonment issues,” Peter said, the grin still in place. “He’s going to be a brat.”

Jackson watched as Peter walked past him and huffed. A patch of earth froze under Peter’s foot and he slipped, tumbling backwards. Jackson smirked when Peter glared at him. “You might be immune to my magic, but the elements around you aren’t,” he said with a shrug and continued to the house.

\--

That night, the family gathered around the table in the dining room. Talia had prepared a massive feast for them and Jackson finally met Laura and Cora. The roasted pork and vegetables were practically forgotten about as Cora fired off questions about them.

“What breeds are you?” she asked, reaching for more meat.

“I’m a metal wolf,” Stiles said with a grin, dropping his magic.

“Oh, pretty!” Cora exclaimed, staring at Stiles’ eyes. “What about you, Jackson?”

Gazing down at his plate, Jackson muttered, “Ice wolf.” He picked at the roasted potatoes, which were covered in a gravy he didn’t ask for. “May I be excused?”

Talia frowned, her eyes dropping to Jackson’s plate. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m tired,” Jackson answered and sat back. “Ice wolves feel time zone changes worse than others.”

“Wouldn’t that mean you’d be up later than normal?” Peter asked and smirked when Jackson glared at him. “You can’t think our company is that off-putting that you’d go to bed hungry?”

Jackson dropped his angry eyes to his plate. His parents hadn’t told them anything about them, just that he supposedly needed their protection. He knew it could be easily avoided, if he just told them. But as far as he was concerned, they had taken him on. It was their duty to ask about his eating habits.

“May I be excused?” he asked again.

“After you eat some of your dinner, Jackson,” Talia said softly.

Jackson stared at the meat and vegetables on his plate. The food vanished and he looked up. “There.” He stood and left the dining room.

“He’s going to be a handful, isn’t he?” Talia asked as Jackson climbed the stairs.

“Just wait until puberty hits,” Peter said as the door was closed.

Jackson stripped and placed his clothes in a hamper. He dressed in his pajamas and went to the window, staring out at the moon that was little more than a sliver in the sky. He could hear the others downstairs, still talking as they ate. His ears twitched as someone came upstairs and he inhaled, catching Derek’s spicy scent. He didn’t answer when there was a knock and the door slowly opened.

Sighing, Jackson turned and stared at Derek. “What?” he snapped.

“You shouldn’t go to bed hungry,” Derek said gently and Jackson just growled. “It might not be the five-star quality that you’re used to, but it’s definitely edible and will help with your energy levels.”

“Get out,” Jackson ordered and turned his back to Derek.

“You have to learn that we’re not going anywhere, Jackson.” The voice was gentle and Jackson knew if he was in his wolf form he would’ve bristled. “And you aren’t leaving, regardless of how you treat us.”

The door closed and Jackson glanced over his shoulder. He was alone in the room and lowered his eyes. Dinner probably was delicious, but he had been vegetarian since he could remember. He didn’t understand how his parents could fail to mention that. Stiles had no problem eating meat, which just reminded him of how abnormal he was. He was the weird shifter among shifters.

By the time Stiles came up for bed, Jackson was already in the bed he assumed was his. It had blue covers, while Stiles’ had red. He was reading _Oliver Twist_ , as his parents wanted him familiar with the classics and strangely enough, Jackson identified with Oliver in the book. He didn’t say anything or give any indication that Stiles was in the room.

“You missed out on some fun,” Stiles said as he got under the covers of his bed. “We played Twister.” Jackson nodded. “What was wrong with dinner?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jackson said and turned the page. He had been fighting off hunger pains for the last two hours. He would need to sleep soon, if he didn’t want to reveal his eyes. Creating food that had substance was still a little beyond him at that age.

“They aren’t as bad as you think they are,” Stiles said softly and Jackson sighed, lowering the book. “You could try to enjoy it here.”

“I’m sorry that you didn’t like your home enough to miss it,” Jackson snapped and raised the book. “I like quiet when I read.”

“Sorry.” Stiles turned off his lamp and settled down. “Goodnight, Jackson.”

Lowering his eyes for a moment, Jackson sighed softly. “Goodnight, Stiles,” he said and was certain he heard Stiles’ muscles strain at the smile on his face.

\--

The next morning, Jackson woke and groaned. His stomach was definitely empty and he needed food. He sat up and stretched, pulling up his magic. No one else was awake, but it seemed that one of them was patrolling around the house.

Slipping out of bed, Jackson made his way downstairs silently. His lightweight didn’t set off a creak on the floorboards and he sought out the kitchen. His head was aching as he drew on energy that didn’t exist for his magic, but that was a problem that would be solved soon.

Opening the fridge, Jackson tilted his head and grabbed a bowl of fruit. He froze, unsure if that was someone else’s breakfast. He bit his lower lip and put it back, turning to the breakfast counter. He frowned at it, thinking on something to eat. He wanted a fruit and yogurt parfait and the last little energy he had saw him creating it. He panted and wiped the sweat off his forehead, sitting at the counter.

Almost hesitantly, Jackson took a spoonful of the parfait and his eyes widened. He’d created food that could give back his energy. He ate eagerly, tensing when someone entered the kitchen. Talia smiled at him, her eyes dropping to the parfait for a moment. She said nothing as she got the coffee brewing and Jackson began picking at his breakfast, unsure if she was expecting an apology for his behavior the previous night.

“You don’t need to be nervous around us, Jackson,” Talia said quietly and Jackson nodded, keeping his eyes down. “And finish your breakfast. I have no doubt that your energy levels are depleted. Especially after creating that.”

Jackson finished his breakfast, feeling much better. With energy to draw from, his headache was gone and his eyes weren’t at risk of revealing what he was. Glancing at the dish the parfait came in, it vanished and Talia smiled, shaking her head.

“Doing the dishes must be really easy for a shifter,” she said and pulled the bowl of fruit from the fridge, placing it in front of Jackson. “Anything that doesn’t have a name on it is free game.”

Jackson nodded and ate the fruit slowly. “Did my parents tell you anything about me?”

“Just that you’re rare and we would be immune to your magic,” Talia answered and Jackson frowned. “Is there something I should know?”

Jackson bit into an apple and shook his head. He could feel Talia’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t going to look up. He still didn’t know what she expected out of him. As much as he didn’t want to be, Jackson knew he had a bratty attitude. He could say it was the way he was raised, but his parents had only ever showered him with love. He just wanted to go home.

As the silence stretched, Talia hummed softly as she began making a batter for pancakes. “Oh, Derek said you healed a cedar tree,” she said and Jackson froze. “What’s wrong—?”

“He was mistaken,” Jackson said and pushed the fruit away. “Thank you for the fruit.”

Jackson entered the bedroom as Stiles sat up, staring around. He seemed confused for a moment, until his eyes landed on Jackson. He grinned and stretched, throwing back the covers. Going to the window, Jackson stared out it, trying not to berate himself. His sole focus had been on finding the tree. He forgot that Derek was with him.

“Breakfast smells good,” Stiles said as he made his bed by hand. “Are you hungry?”

“I already ate,” Jackson answered.

“Oh.” Stiles was quiet for a moment. “Maybe we can explore the area some? You can show me that trick with the trees.”

Jackson winced and spun around. “What trick?” he demanded and Stiles frowned.

“Derek said you healed a tree yesterday. That’s pretty awesome, man. I’ve always wanted to learn something like that, but…I’m fire and metal.” Stiles lowered his eyes and sighed softly. “It’ll take me a thousand years to learn healing.”

“Derek was wrong,” Jackson said and turned his back to Stiles. “I can’t heal. Ice wolves don’t know how.”

“Why would the Hale pack take on an ice wolf?” Stiles asked and Jackson ignored the prying eyes on the back of his head. “Ice wolves aren’t really hunted that much. No more than earth or fire wolves.”

“You should ask them that,” Jackson said quietly, though he doubted even they knew. Talia might have an idea, but he doubted she would tell anyone. He prayed she never told anyone.

\--

Two months later, Jackson was freezing. The temperature was dropping quickly at night as fall settled in. He kept trying to act as though the chill wasn’t affecting him, but he could tell by the way Talia kept looking at him that she knew it was. Jackson was wearing so many layers that he could barely move.

“Hey,” Derek said as he walked into the bedroom. Jackson and Stiles were working on their homework.

“Hey,” Stiles greeted with a grin. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking to see if you two needed any help,” Derek said as he stood beside Jackson’s desk. “Is that calculus?”

Jackson kept his eyes down, forcing himself not to move closer to Derek. He never realized how hot werewolves ran and he was actually jealous. He wanted to have that kind of insulation, but he nodded in answer to Derek’s question. He had been surprised that Stiles was just as intelligent as him.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, placing a hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

Jackson glared up at him, eyes flashing. Derek removed his hand. “I’m well, thank you,” he said with clenched teeth and dropped his eyes back to his homework. “If you don’t mind, we have science after this.”

Derek’s eyebrows went up and Stiles shrugged. “He’s not wrong,” Stiles said with a grin. “Do you know much about science?”

“That depends. What section are you on?”

“Biology,” Stiles said and Jackson glanced at him.

Stiles was grinning as he spoke to Derek, like they weren’t there against their wills. Giving his head a slight shake, Jackson finished his calculus homework and got to work on the biology homework. He wrote an essay about the digestive track, all the functions of it and how everything was broken down, while Derek and Stiles continued their conversation.

Jackson froze as Derek’s hand rested on the nape of his neck. “If you need anything, we’re here. Okay?”

Giving a stiff nod, Jackson relaxed when Derek’s hand moved. He waited until the door was shut, despite knowing it did nothing for werewolf ears and looked at Stiles. “Does Peter touch you that much?”

“If I need comfort, yeah,” Stiles answered with a small smile. “It isn’t that bad, to let yourself be comforted.”

_It’s weak,_ Jackson thought bitterly, but nodded at Stiles.

\--

Winter had finally arrived and Jackson couldn’t believe that the werewolves didn’t feel the cold at all. He could barely get out of bed in the morning, the cold leaving him completely lethargic. Only his stubborn pride made him get up and go downstairs. His stubborn pride also prevented him from asking if they could turn the heating on. He was in the minority. He couldn’t ask the werewolves to sweat and die because he was affected by the cold.

So, he took to lying about everything. ‘Are you cold?’ No. ‘How many sweaters are you wearing?’ One, even though he wanted to declare it wasn’t enough. Stepping outside was worse for him. He knew Derek noticed the way he tensed as soon as the outside chill hit him and he was running out of excuses for the pauses, waiting for his body to acclimatize.

Instead of doing his homework in their shared bedroom, Jackson spent most of the time in the kitchen. His body and stomach battled for which was needed more. Upstairs, his and Stiles’ scents masked the stench of cooking meat, but it was far colder. In the kitchen, he could smell the meat cooking, but it was a lot warmer. Thanksgiving was coming up and Jackson was terrified. Showers were basically straight hot water, which annoyed everyone that went in after him.

One afternoon, working on his science homework, Jackson jumped when he felt a hot hand on the nape of his neck. Derek smiled down at him and Jackson glared. He had no idea why Derek couldn’t get it through his thick head that he didn’t like being touched. Derek raised an eyebrow and removed his hand.

“If you’re cold, you can tell us,” he said quietly and Jackson scoffed. “I can feel it, Jackson.”

“Sure you can,” Jackson said, writing his answers on the heart from the textbook.

“Your skin feels like ice,” Derek went on.

“I’m an _ice_ wolf,” Jackson said and glared at Derek. “Emphasis on ‘ice.’ We tend to run a little cooler than the typical wolf-shifter.”

“Ice wolves don’t run as cold as you,” Derek said, his voice full of patience, which just had Jackson growing angry with him. “It’s only going to get colder. If you need a heater in—”

“I don’t,” Jackson snapped and went back to his homework.

\--

Thanksgiving wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. There was actually food he could eat and ignored the curious glances from the werewolves as he ignored the turkey. Jackson was sure it was cooked to perfection, but he still wasn’t going to touch it. The worst part was when they said what they were grateful for. Talia started it off.

“I’m grateful for my family and that Stiles and Jackson were brought to us, where we can keep them safe.” Talia smiled and looked at Laura.

“I’m also grateful for family,” Laura said, wearing the same smile as her mother.

Peter was next and the smirk on his face just set Jackson on edge. “I’m grateful that our family could take care of two special shifters, to show them life isn’t always hardship and having to fight for your place.”

Derek kept his eyes down for a moment, but raised his wine glass. “Family.” He looked at Jackson and Stiles. “Family,” he repeated firmly.

Cora smiled. “Family and bonds.”

Stiles grinned, raising his water glass. “My Dad, definitely. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. Thank you for taking me in.”

Jackson kept his eyes down, trying to think of one thing in his life he was grateful for. He knew the others were waiting on him, but there wasn’t one good thing in his life at the moment. Frowning, he looked up at their faces, how Talia was praying he found something, how Derek and Peter knew there was nothing in him. Laura and Cora looked sad that he was taking so long.

“Magic,” he said quietly and dropped his eyes again. “It protects those I care about.”

“To family, bonds and magic,” Talia said, raising her glass.

\--

Jackson spent most of the night in front of the fireplace. Talia decided to light it, just for the festive mood it set. The others were groaning happily, having ate more than they needed. Jackson stared into the flames, watching the way they danced and licked along the wood. For the first time in months, he felt almost content and fell asleep on the hearth, enjoying the warmth.

\--

Christmas came and Jackson was in the bedroom, staring out the window. His parents weren’t coming for a visit, as they had other family to see. They had finally told him that they felt they were being followed and didn’t want to lead the hunters to him. Jackson completely understood, but that didn’t stop the hurt from settling in. As much as he wanted to pretend he was fine, he was upstairs, while the others were in the living room, crowded around the tree.

Stiles’ father had dropped in for the day and Stiles’ excitement made Jackson smile. He always thought that Stiles didn’t miss his family, but from the way he cried in his father’s arms, Jackson realized he was wrong. Stiles was just trying to make the best of their situation. Jackson had thought about that for a moment and subsequently dismissed it. He couldn’t afford to drop his guard.

“Hey, kiddo,” Derek said as he sat on Jackson’s bed. “I’m sure—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, keep it,” Jackson said and glared at the werewolf. “If I wanted pity, I would be downstairs.”

Derek nodded, eyes dropping to the small gift in his hand. It was wrapped in gold paper and Jackson recognized it as the gift he created for Derek. He turned his eyes from it, staring out the window. He didn’t want anything from anyone, aside from his parents. He wanted them to show up and take him back home.

“We have presents for you,” Derek said softly. “Your parents also sent some.”

Jackson shook his head. “Stiles can have them.” He ignored Derek’s surprised eyes on him. “What?” he snapped.

“Stiles isn’t going to take your Christmas presents, Jackson. Come downstairs and spend some time with us.”

“Why?” Jackson demanded. “Is that going to change the fact that my parents don’t want to see me?”

“No,” Derek answered as he stood. “But it might help you forget it for a little while.”

Jackson snorted and shook his head. “I’m fine up here, thank you.”

Derek sighed and nodded. “Thank you for the present,” he said and left the room.

Jackson shivered.

\--

Spring finally rolled into summer and Jackson felt the sun warming his blood. Within the first week of the break, he received a visitor. His eyes lit up and he ran to the man that was getting out of Laura’s Camaro. He wasn’t sure if his lessons would continue while he was with the Hales, but he was just glad to see a familiar face.

“Vincent!” Jackson cried and jumped up, wrapping his arms around Vincent’s neck.

Vincent’s warm brown eyes danced as he returned the hug. “Hey, Jax.” He moved the shifter to his hip and looked at the house. “I can see you’ve been having fun. Have you told them about yourself?”

Jackson shook his head. “Of course not. You told me to keep that secret.”

“Good.” Vincent’s eyes focused on the werewolf on the porch. “Your protector has come to see who I am.”

Jackson glared at Derek, not wanting to spend any time with him. He needed to learn his magic more than he needed a werewolf following him around. He didn’t say anything as Vincent approached the porch and held out his free hand.

“Vincent Aelioseus,” he said with a smile.

Derek hesitated, but shook Vincent’s hand. “Derek Hale,” he said. “You’re Jackson’s magic teacher?”

“Yes,” Vincent answered and placed Jackson on his feet. “Is there a good place for us to practice, Jax?”

Jackson shook his head. “He doesn’t leave me alone.”

“He’s your protector, kiddo,” Vincent explained gently and Jackson huffed. “He needs to follow you, so he can make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Jackson pouted. “Look, Derek, he doesn’t want to show off his magic. Can I get two hours alone with him a day for the summer break?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “What species are you?”

Vincent smirked and lit a cigarette. He exhaled the smoke through his nose. “I’m a dragon.”

Derek’s eyes widened. “Why isn’t he under _your_ protection, then?”

“David and Diana only contracted me to help with his magic,” Vincent explained. “Besides, we weren’t going to take him. Werewolves might not be stronger than dragons, but the hunters won’t think to look for him here.”

“ _I_ wouldn’t think to look for me here,” Jackson muttered and slipped his hand into Vincent’s, pulling him away from the house. “I have to show you something!”

Vincent let Jackson pull him through the trees, until they were standing in front of a cedar. Vincent looked at the tree and nodded slowly. “You did brilliantly, kiddo. But you did it in front of a werewolf. Derek saw you heal this one.”

“I know,” Jackson said and lowered his eyes. “I haven’t been able to heal anymore. Derek told everyone about what I did. I’m scared they’ll discover what I am.”

“We can work on them together, okay?” Vincent smiled when Jackson nodded. “How was winter?”

Jackson flinched. “Painful,” he muttered. “It was so cold.”

“That’s because you didn’t tell them anything, Jax. You need to tell them that you can’t regulate your core temperature. You’re lucky this past winter was mild. The next one could kill you.”

Jackson stared down at the leaflitter, nudging it with the toe of his shoe. “They’ll know I’m not an ice wolf, then,” he said quietly.

“They already know you’re not just an ice wolf, _mikros_ ,” Vincent said as he crouched in front of Jackson, placing his hands on his small shoulders. “You don’t have to tell them what you are, but you can’t keep everything from them. They’re here to protect you.”

Jackson nodded, knowing that Vincent spoke the truth. That didn’t mean he would trust the Hale pack with any information about him, though. They might have been contracted to protect him, but he couldn’t trust them. Once the contract ran out, they were free to say anything they wanted about him.

“You’re not gonna tell them anything, are you?” Vincent asked and Jackson tightened his jaw. “If you don’t tell them anything, I’ll tell them everything.”

Jackson’s head snapped up and he stared at Vincent. He knew the dragon would tell them his breed, so he nodded and sighed quietly. He wanted to keep that fact secret and Vincent knew that. He supposed he could tell them about his diet and maybe the cold thing. At least Talia, anyway. He wasn’t going to tell Derek or Peter anything about himself.

“Good. Now, create a table, chairs and tea,” Vincent said as he stood back. Jackson frowned. That was advanced magic for him. Vincent chuckled. “I know you can do it, Jax.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Jackson felt his magic buzz through him. A small wrought-iron table was created, along with two chairs. There was a pot of tea, two cups and a variety of teacakes on the table. He exhaled sharply and smiled, sitting at the table, pouring the tea for Vincent. His head felt light, but he figured the more he did that, the easier it would become.

“The lemon teacake is delicious,” Vincent said, brushing a crumb from his lower lip. “You didn’t tell me that you could create food.”

Jackson shrugged. “You always said I was magically advanced,” he said quietly, glancing around. He knew Laura was patrolling that day.

“Because of your breed,” Vincent said and sipped the tea. He smiled as Jackson remembered to make it peppermint. “Your breed has always been magically advanced. But I still need to know when you learn new spells, such as creating food.”

“I was hungry the day after I got here. I wanted a fruit parfait, so I created it. Since then, I’ve been creating my own food, while the werewolves aren’t looking.” Jackson shrugged again, staring into the pale brown liquid of the teacup.

“You don’t need to hide from them, _mikros_ ,” Vincent said gently. “Why do they scare you?”

Jackson glared at Vincent, the dragon’s tea freezing solid in seconds. “They don’t _scare_ me,” he hissed and sat back, the glare lessening and becoming more of a pout.

Vincent ran his finger around the rim of the cup, the liquid thawing and warming. “There’s something about them that has you worried,” he stated patiently.

“Derek,” Jackson said and lowered his eyes. “He keeps…touching me.”

“Ah.” Vincent smiled and sipped the tea. “You don’t need to worry about him. Werewolves are all about scents. Touching transfers their scents and he probably wants his scent on you.”

“But I don’t want his scent on me,” Jackson snapped, the pouting glare returning. “Stiles said he was trying to comfort me.”

“You were taken from your family and placed with strangers,” Vincent said with a shrug. “He probably thought you needed the comfort. Don’t hold it against him.”

Jackson lowered his eyes for a moment, before he glanced around and sat up straighter. “I can’t trust them.”

Vincent stared at him, eyes blank for a moment. When he blinked, there was a soft edge to them. “It’s your carnival of rust, Jax. You can either build on it or let it decay further.” He smiled when Jackson frowned at him. “Tell me about Stiles.”

“He’s a metal wolf. He’s got really pretty colors – red and gold.”

“Do you like him?”

“It’s nice to have another shifter around,” Jackson answered with a shrug. “We don’t really see eye-to-eye on much, but he isn’t the worst thing to happen about this.”

“He sounds good for you,” Vincent said and poured more tea into his cup. “Have you told him about you?”

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t want him to have that knowledge,” he said and lowered his eyes. “It’s just him and his dad. I don’t want them targeted because of me.”

“Dmitri is helping Stiles with his magic. He tells me that the kid is capable of taking care of himself,” Vincent said and stared at Jackson. “Trusting him won’t hurt you.”

“Until it does,” Jackson muttered and Vincent sighed softly.

“That’s part of life, Jackson. Come on, I’ll go with you while you tell Talia about yourself.” Vincent stood and Jackson slipped off the table. The tea, cups and cakes disappeared. “Very nice.”

Jackson took Vincent’s hand and walked back to the house, keeping his eyes down. He wasn’t looking forward to telling a werewolf about himself. He could feel his shoulders tensing the closer they got and kept his eyes down. He didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes when he told her about his diet and how the cold affected him.

“Vincent,” Talia said as she stepped off the porch and hugged the dragon. “Derek said you were here. I was hoping to talk with you before your lesson with Jackson.”

Vincent returned the hug with his free arm and pulled back. “I needed to speak with Jax about a few things. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” Talia smiled at Jackson. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes,” Jackson answered and ducked his head when Vincent squeezed his hand. “I’m vegetarian.”

“That explains a lot. I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t know.” Talia got on a knee and bent her head, trying to see his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel the cold…really badly.”

Talia was silent for a moment and Jackson looked up. She was staring at Vincent, clearly having a conversation with the dragon in their minds. Her eyes widened and Jackson flinched when they turned to him. She knew what he was and he was waiting for her to tell Vincent to take him and leave. He was too much of a risk to have around her family.

A hand reached out for him and Jackson jerked back, lowering his head. “Don’t be scared, Jackson,” Talia murmured warmly. “We’re not going to send you away. But I needed to know what we were dealing with.”

Vincent pulled Jackson forward. “They’re worried about you, _mikros_ ,” he said gently and released the small hand he held. “I have to head off.”

Jackson’s eyes widened and he stared at Vincent. “Please,” he whispered.

“You’re surrounded by pack, Jackson,” Vincent stated firmly and Jackson lowered his head. “Whether you want them or not, they’re your pack.”

Talia smiled and placed a hand on Jackson’s tense shoulder. “I can protect you better, now,” she said and waved as Vincent slipped into the Camaro.

Jackson watched as Laura glanced at Talia, eyebrow going up in question. Talia shook her head and Laura shrugged, slipping into the car to take Vincent to his hotel. Jackson pulled his shoulder free and went into the house, going up to the bedroom. He sat on the bed, staring at the wall. Vincent had left him, left him alone with werewolves, where one of them knew.

“How did it go with Vincent?” Derek asked as he sat beside Jackson.

“Get out,” Jackson said. He growled and glared at Derek when he felt an arm around his shoulders. He shoved Derek off the bed. “You might be immune to my magic, but you forget that I’m still a shifter.”

Derek sat up and sighed. “You can push me away all you like, Jackson, but you’re still not going anywhere.”

“I don’t have to go anywhere. Get out.” Jackson pulled his knees to his chest and glared at the wall.

“No,” Derek said and Jackson closed his eyes. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I have Vincent for that,” Jackson said and opened his eyes, making sure his magic was still in place. Strong emotions caused him to drop his magic and he needed to work on either keeping his emotions under control or keeping his magic up while he was angry or upset. “He’s my pack.”

“And so are we,” Derek said as he stood. “I’m you’re protector, Jackson. You’re never going to be rid of me.”

“I will be, once I’m twenty-one.”

“All I heard was that I’ve got thirteen years to show you that we’re not going to hurt you.”

Jackson frowned as Derek smiled at him. He snarled and glared at the wall. Derek’s fingers brushed against the nape of his neck, before he left the room. Jackson shivered.


	2. Age 10

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

**Age 10**

Sitting on the barrier of the porch, Jackson read _Oliver Twist_. Stiles was sparring with Peter on the front lawn and Derek was reading _Great Expectations_. The last two years hadn’t been anything decent. Jackson hadn’t seen his parents at all and Vincent only visited every few weeks, giving Jackson homework and leaving. Talia hadn’t breathed a word about Jackson to her pack, which made him somewhat happy.

Talia had set up heating for the bedroom and Stiles had eyed Jackson curiously, who still continued to tell the metal wolf that he was an ice wolf. He knew Stiles didn’t buy it, but there wasn’t any other evidence. Until he saw Jackson’s colors, he would continue to believe he was an ice wolf. With the heating in place, Jackson actually felt much better. He wasn’t frozen by the time he opened his eyes. Stiles didn’t particularly enjoy it, being that he ran warmer than a typical shifter, as his element was fire, but he dealt with it.

Jackson stared at the page he was on. He’d read the same line twenty-five times and he didn’t know what had his attention. There was an ache in his chest. It wasn’t all that painful, but it was enough to let him know that one of the trees was suffering. Swinging his legs around, Jackson stared past Stiles and Peter, into the trees. It wasn’t close enough to just walk up to one and do a little magic. It was far, which meant that Derek would stick to his side like a bad smell.

Slipping off the barrier, Jackson frowned and walked between Peter and Stiles. A wall of ice was raised as Stiles released a ball of fire. The wall disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He stopped by the first tree, eyes flickering between the trunks he could see. Rolling his right shoulder, Jackson backed away. He didn’t want to deal with Derek asking questions. It was one tree in amongst thousands.

Returning to his position on the railing, Jackson opened the book. He could feel Derek staring at him and he ignored it. Derek was still too touchy for his liking. The less he had to deal with the werewolf being close to him, the happier he was. Derek didn’t seem to understand ‘don’t touch me’ and ‘get away from me.’ Or he did and just didn’t care.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked as Peter and Stiles went back to sparring.

Jackson ignored the question and read the line for the twenty-sixth time. He dropped the book and sighed quietly, glaring into the trees. It wasn’t going to leave him alone. Derek stood that time, marking his page and pulled Jackson off the railing. Jackson growled and shoved him back. That seemed to be the only thing Derek responded to, when Jackson physically pushed him away.

“Something has your attention. You may as well find it,” Derek said quietly.

Jackson glared into the trees, wishing he could ignore the pain of one. He dropped his eyes and sighed, heading into the forest. As he walked, he realized that it wasn’t an infection. The tree had been attacked and it was hurting badly. He moved through faster, taking sharp turns. At one stage, he was certain he lost Derek. Even with his werewolf speed, he couldn’t keep up with a shifter. It was a small victory.

The tree was a large oak, probably a few hundred years old. He could see holes in the trunk from bullets and arrows that were fired into it for target practice. He had no idea how far from the Hale house he was, but he could see the dark red sap from where the tree had tried to mend itself. That tree was beyond him.

Healing a slight infection was difficult enough. He hadn’t been keeping up on his healing spells, as he didn’t want anyone to know about them. Biting his lower lip, Jackson stepped back and hung his head. The tree would die a slow, painful death if he didn’t do something to help it. As much as he didn’t want to, he set his jaw and glared at the ground. Derek was almost on him and he wanted to heal it as quickly as possible.

Raising his head, Jackson thought of the healing magic. It tingled through his body, almost tickling him as it pooled in his right palm. A pale blue orb that wasn’t big enough for the damage done to the tree sat there. Inhaling deeply, Jackson pooled more magic into his hand and winced as it drew on energy that was dwindling rapidly. He panted and placed his palm to the trunk, watching as the magic slipped in and worked. He saw bullets being pushed out and the holes slowly healing over.

Jackson rested his forehead against the bark and closed his eyes. “Please be enough,” he whispered harshly.

The tree tingled and the pain disappeared. Jackson stepped back and opened his eyes, smiling at the mighty oak. He wasn’t sure how often he would need to heal it, but he could hope that the next time it called for him, he would be stronger.

Derek stood behind him, following his eyes. Jackson ignored him and created a bowl of fruit salad. He ate slowly as he looked at the tree, smiling as the leaves danced in the breeze. He jerked his shoulder free of Derek’s hand and stepped around the werewolf, heading back to the house. With food in his stomach, he didn’t feel as terrible as he previously did.

Once back, the bowl disappeared from his hand and he took his position on the barrier again. He read the same line for the twenty-seventh time and finally managed to get past it. He smiled as he felt the tree sending out its gratitude, almost like a warm pair of arms around his chest. It wasn’t much, but he was glad that the pain was gone.

\--

That night, in their beds, Jackson tried to ignore Stiles staring at him. He had no idea what he’d done to get his attention this time. He was finishing _Oliver Twist_ , but he found he couldn’t concentrate as Stiles stared at him, trying something. Jackson’s eyes widened when he felt the fluttering at the edges of his mind. He lowered the book and stared at Stiles.

“You’re trying to read my mind?” he asked and Stiles blushed, lowering his eyes. “If you want to know something, just ask.”

“I tried that, but you lie every time. What breed are you?” Stiles asked and tilted his head.

“Ice wolf,” Jackson answered easily and Stiles groaned. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” Stiles stated and Jackson shrugged at him. “Talia knows what you are, but you won’t tell me. I’ve seen the way she checks on you. That means you’re not an ice wolf.”

“Would knowing my breed really make any difference? I have control over ice, therefore I’m an ice wolf,” Jackson said and raised the book, wanting the conversation over.

“Even you said that ice wolves can’t heal. I know you heal trees.” Stiles sat up more. “Ice wolves don’t feel the cold as bad as you, either.”

Jackson groaned and closed the book. “I’m an ice wolf. I just feel the cold a little worse than my parents. I don’t heal trees, that’s insane.”

“I’ve _seen_ you heal trees,” Stiles said, standing beside his bed. “If you’re a healer, that’s fine. I know they’re rare, but you don’t have to lie about it.”

“I’m not lying!” Jackson shouted, also out of bed and glaring at Stiles.

“Then show me your colors!” Stiles challenged. Jackson remained silent and Stiles shook his head. “Then explain why you don’t smell like an ice wolf.”

Jackson’s eyes widened. Somehow, he had forgotten that Stiles was a wolf and could smell him. That had probably been the main reason why he wanted Jackson to admit what he was. He didn’t smell like ice and whatever other element he had control over.

Instead, he shook his head and left the bedroom. Talia stood at the end of the hallway, watching him. He knew their shouting would’ve woken the werewolves. In all honesty, he hadn’t wanted to lose his temper, but he was tired of people believing he was lying. He hadn’t given them any reason to believe anything out of his mouth, but he hadn’t taken away the benefit of the doubt, either.

In the kitchen, Jackson crossed his arms on the breakfast counter and rested his chin on his wrists. His ears twitched and he sighed, glaring at Derek. “Go away. If I don’t want to talk to my own kind, what the hell makes you think I want to talk to _you_?”

Derek shrugged and sat beside Jackson. “You clearly need to talk to someone,” he said and Jackson rolled his eyes. “Stiles has a point,” he went on after a short silence. “You haven’t shown us your colors and you don’t smell like ice.”

“Oh, no,” Jackson said with feigned surprise. “Who would’ve thought that not all shifters smelled the same? Stop the presses!”

“Don’t get defensive, Jackson,” Derek said with a slight glare. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“My mother doesn’t smell like ice, either,” Jackson shot at him. “Are you going to claim she isn’t an ice wolf, as well?”

Derek shook his head, looking much older than he was. “We weren’t asked to protect her. You can try and hide it as much as you want, but we know you’re not just an ice wolf.”

Jackson growled as Derek’s hand found the nape of his neck again. He slapped it away and crushed Derek’s windpipe in the same instance, a glare in his eyes. “ _Stop_ touching me,” he snarled.

Derek coughed as his trachea healed and nodded. “All right. I’ll stop touching you if you tell me what you are.”

Jackson’s eyes widened for a moment, before he sighed in defeat. “No.”

“I thought so.” Derek’s hand was heavy on the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to run from us, Jackson. We care about you.”

“No, you’re paid to care about me.” Jackson rested his cheek on his wrists, looking away from Derek. _I’m the one that has to live with the deaths,_ he added silently.

“We’re paid to protect you, Jackson. We care about you for free,” Derek said, giving the neck a gentle squeeze. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Derek left the kitchen and Jackson shivered.

\--

“I’m Lydia Martin.”

Jackson glanced at the redhead beside him. She had started there that year and Jackson raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t fully human, but it seemed she wasn’t aware of what she was. Since he was big on secrets, he just nodded at her. She would eventually learn what she was and maybe even he would discover it, as well. He doubted it, though. That would just be someone else to worry about.

“Good for you.”

“I’m Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles said from behind Jackson and reached forward, shaking Lydia’s hand. “This sourpuss is Jackson Whittemore.”

Lydia barely glanced at Stiles and Jackson frowned as her eyes returned to him. He looked over his shoulder. Stiles seemed as though he was already in love with Lydia, which didn’t make sense to him. She was pretty, but they didn’t know a thing about her. Her mind would be an open book to him and Stiles, but Jackson had a thing about sifting through someone’s memories and thoughts without their permission.

Still, as the argument from a week ago resurfaced in Jackson’s mind, he smiled at Lydia. “Yeah, I’m Jackson Whittemore,” he said and noted with glee that she had a stain to her cheeks. “Welcome to Beacon Hills.”

\--

“You don’t even like her!” Stiles shouted as they got back to the Hale house that day. “You’re doing it to hurt me!”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Oddly enough, Stiles, not everything is about you. I have my own life, you know.”

“You looked at me and knew I liked her! You didn’t even invite me to join for lunch, because you wanted to keep her all to yourself!” Stiles threw his school bag down and Jackson shrugged.

“You and Scott seemed really happy together. I didn’t want to disrupt that, by dragging you away.” Jackson fought to keep the smirk from his face as Stiles glared at him.

“I hate you!”

That hurt. Instead of letting that show, Jackson let his anger flow. “Take a number!”

Talia came out from the kitchen and stared at the two. “I’m guessing it was a bad day at school?”

“It was fine,” Jackson said and went up the stairs. He knew that Stiles would tell Talia everything that happened and he didn’t want to see her paint him as the bad guy with just a look. “We made a new friend.”

\--

A month later, Jackson was working up the nerve to apologize to Stiles. He didn’t realize how weird it would be to share a room with someone that hated him. They didn’t look at each other when they were in the room and Stiles was spending more time with his friend, Scott.

In a hallway at school, he was trying to catch Stiles’ gaze. Stiles finally sighed and looked at him. Jackson grinned, which he lost when Lydia grabbed his face and pressed her lips to his. Jackson pulled back, staring at her. Her eyes danced in the lights.

“I’m going to marry you.”

Frowning, Jackson shook his head. Stiles was glaring at him, before he turned around and disappeared into the sea of students. Jackson slumped and let Lydia pull him in the opposite direction. He doubted there would be enough ‘I’m sorrys’ to help him, now.

\--

As fall hit them, Jackson sat in the study. He had turned a chair around and sat on it, staring out the window as rain pattered against the glass. Stiles had requested to move out of their bedroom and Jackson didn’t want to admit that that hurt more than he let on. There had been no barbs, no snark at all from the metal wolf and Jackson found that more depressing than Stiles hating him. He acted as though Jackson didn’t exist.

The door to the study opened and Jackson closed his eyes, bringing up his magic. He had let it drop, in the chance that Stiles would walk by the window and see them. He still couldn’t bring himself to tell Stiles what his breed was, but if he found out by accident, everything would be fine. Once his eyes were human, Jackson opened them and found Derek standing beside the chair.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Derek rested against the wall beside the window. He crossed his arms and gazed at Jackson. “What happened?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Too bad,” Derek said and smiled when Jackson glared. “You and Stiles shouldn’t fight over a girl.”

“Well, we are, okay? She likes me and he likes her. It’s stupid, but that’s what kids do.” Jackson stood and went to leave the study. He froze when Derek’s hand landed on the nape of his neck.

“And who do you like?” Derek asked and Jackson frowned, pushing Derek’s hand away. He turned around and stared at him. “If you had to pick between them, who would you choose?”

“Stiles, of course,” Jackson answered before he even thought about it. “We might not be the same breed, but he’s the only other wolf-shifter in this hellhole of a town.”

“You should tell him that,” Derek said with a gentle smile.

“Why? He clearly chose some girl over me.”

“It isn’t about that, Jackson,” Derek said and straightened. “It isn’t about who he picked.”

“Then why ask me who I would pick out of them?”

“I wanted you to see that there was someone you trusted.”

Jackson turned his head away when Derek went to touch his cheek and glared at the floor. He and Stiles had spent two years together in a room. Outside of the house, they were still together. They had the same class at school. Lunch was the only time that they branched away from the other, making their own friends and discovering their own likes and dislikes.

Biting his lower lip, Jackson nodded. Derek, as annoying as he was, was right about that. Jackson did trust Stiles and would tell him what his breed was, when he felt the boy could protect himself better.

Derek kissed the top of his head. “Good boy,” he murmured and Jackson’s eyes widened.

“Hale,” he snapped and spun around. Derek looked at him and began panting, trying to draw in oxygen. Jackson’s eyes hardened as the werewolf fell to his knees. He exhaled shakily and restored the oxygen around Derek, watching as the werewolf sucked in deep breaths. “Treat me like a dog again and I won’t stop next time.”

Walking past Derek, Jackson patted his head and smirked when he heard a growl.

\--

For the next two months, Stiles managed to avoid Jackson entirely. It was easier at school, but he hated the fact that Stiles was practically glued to Peter’s side. Peter refused to let Jackson near him and wouldn’t give them privacy, so he could apologize without everyone else listening in. The fight was between him and Stiles. The rest of the household didn’t need to be involved.

Derek pulled Jackson outside to spar in the rain on a Saturday afternoon, which had him angry. His sparring outfit was expensive and he didn’t want it ruined by mud. In front of the house, Jackson shivered as the rain lowered his temperature. Derek just smirked at him and Jackson rolled his eyes, exhaling softly.

Derek’s eyes widened as he looked up when the rain stopped falling. Jackson tilted his head as Derek stared at him, across the dome he had created. “I don’t like being messy,” he said with a shrug.

“Not even Stiles can create a dome, of fire or metal yet,” Derek said, watching as the rain pattered on the invisible shield.

Jackson shrugged again. He knew that Stiles was more proficient with his fire than he was with his metal, but he had Dmitri Aelioseus helping him every summer with his metal. Still, he knew he shouldn’t be showing off his magical skills, as that would lead all of them to asking questions. Laura just stared at him from the porch, looking through the rain to watch them.

“Hey, Derek, what top…” Stiles trailed off as he stared at the dome and his eyes focused on Jackson. “What the heck? How are you doing that?”

Jackson dropped his head, letting the dome disappear. He shivered as the water poured over him. While he was grateful that Stiles had actually acknowledged his presence, he didn’t want to answer that question. Stiles stepped onto the lawn, still staring at Jackson as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Did Vincent teach you that?” Stiles asked and Jackson remained silent. “That’s advanced magic.”

“I’m an over-achiever, okay?” Jackson snapped and glared. He winced and lowered his eyes again. That was probably the most honest he’d been in the last two years. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“That’s okay,” Stiles said gently and placed a hot hand on Jackson’s freezing shoulder. “I’m an over-achiever, too. You don’t need to apologize because your magic is better.”

Jackson shivered under Stiles’ touch and looked up. Stiles’ swirling eyes were sincere, as was the smile on his face. He had been unnecessarily cruel to Stiles when he flirted with Lydia and, after his tantrum, Stiles was still by his side. Jackson sighed and wrapped his arms around Stiles, still hating the fact that he was a few inches taller.

“I pick you over a girl,” Jackson whispered and felt Stiles’ surprise. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles returned the hug and Jackson blinked when the rain stopped. He saw Laura standing behind them, holding an umbrella over them. She smiled warmly. “You should get inside before you catch a cold,” she said and Jackson nodded, releasing Stiles.

Jackson went up to the porch and flicked his hands. The water flew from him and he smirked, heading inside bone dry. For a brief moment, he wondered if he and Stiles would be all right. They had gone two years without any huge fights, aside from a couple of sparring matches that ended with some blood drawn. Maybe it was time they began sparring again.

\--

That Christmas, Jackson wasn’t surprised when his parents didn’t come for a visit. Unlike the previous two, he was downstairs for breakfast. He picked at the fruit salad, glancing around. Cora frowned at him and Jackson couldn’t explain it. Something felt wrong to him.

After breakfast, the family moved into the living room. Jackson hovered by the door, chewing his lower lip. That anxious feeling wasn’t leaving him and he didn’t know who to tell or how to explain it. He didn’t know what it was and it was beginning to annoy him. As he watched Stiles grin, showing off the new sweater Talia got him, Jackson was almost certain he knew what it was.

His eyes widened and he stepped back. Leaving the family to their presents, Jackson went up to the bedroom and stared out the window. He felt happy there, almost like he wasn’t cast aside. He knew the others would try to make him feel better, but he didn’t want that. Eventually, he would lose them, just as he lost his real parents and his adoptive parents.

“Being happy isn’t something to be scared about,” Derek explained as he stood beside Jackson.

“I know,” Jackson whispered and lowered his eyes. “But it’s only a matter of time before I lose everything.”

Derek stared at him and Jackson gazed out the window. “With a mindset like that, of course you’re going to lose everything,” he said with a shrug. “If you just enjoy the moment, you’ll find that it lasts a lot longer.”

Jackson shook his head. “You weren’t ripped from your family,” he said and sighed. “I’d like to be alone, please.”

Derek shook his head and Jackson tensed under the hand on his neck. “You’ve been alone for the last two Christmases, Jackson. I think it’s time you joined us.”

Jackson pushed Derek’s hand away and shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Then I’ll stay up here with you,” Derek said and rested his shoulder against the wall.

Jackson shot a glare at Derek from under his lashes and the oxygen disappeared from around the werewolf. Jackson watched as he gasped and choked, trying to take in a breath. He waited until Derek’s heart slowed from the frantic pace, before he let the oxygen return and the werewolf was drawing in deep breaths.

“I’d like to be alone, please,” Jackson said again and Derek nodded, stumbling to his feet. “There won’t be a third time.”

Derek paused at the door. “Yeah, there will be. And a fourth and a fifth. Then, eventually, you’ll learn that we’re not going anywhere.”

The door closed and Jackson shivered.

\--

Summer break rolled around and Jackson sat on a wrought-iron chair in the forest. The table was covered in leaflitter from the previous seasons, but he didn’t care about that. While he was in that section, he could pretend that everything was normal. Vincent would be arriving the next day, which just soured Jackson’s mood. He wanted to practice his magic and he wasn’t going to do that with a werewolf audience.

Derek stood by the cedar tree, checking his phone. Jackson assumed he had a girlfriend, if the goofy grin on his face was anything to go by. Staring at him, Jackson frowned. Something bad was going to happen, he was certain of it. Of course, he was always full of doom and gloom, but he knew something was going to happen that would change Derek’s life, whether for better or worse wasn’t written.

Glancing up, Derek raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

Jackson glanced above Derek’s head, staring at a two-inch screen that was playing out a scene that hadn’t happened yet. It was the likeliest scenario and somehow, it couldn’t be changed. Dropping his eyes to Derek’s face, Jackson shook his head. Without a doubt, Stiles had seen the same thing. That could explain why he kept staring at Derek, reminding Jackson of a kicked puppy.

Jackson rested his chin on the table and closed his eyes, searching through all the wires, until he found the one connected to Stiles. _You saw what happened, didn’t you?_ He wasn’t sure if the words would get past Stiles’ defenses, but he could at least say that he asked.

Stiles’ reply was warm, reminding Jackson of a shower on a winter night. _Yeah, I did. I want to tell him, but I know that we can’t mess with the future._ Jackson sighed softly and opened his eyes. He knew Stiles was right, but that didn’t make it any better. Derek was clearly in love with the girl he was texting. His pheromones were going insane, to the point that Jackson didn’t want to be around him.

_I could always…heal her, when the bite doesn’t take. Force it to take,_ he offered and he knew that Stiles was staring towards his location, eyes wide and mouth hanging. Jackson never offered to heal anyone and he certainly didn’t want anyone knowing he could heal. He was certain that was the first time he actually admitted to it.

_You can’t, Jackson. That’s messing with the future. She isn’t to become a werewolf. I know it sucks and your protector will be upset about it, but you can’t mess with Fate._ Jackson got to his feet and glared towards Stiles at the house. He would be damned if he wasn’t going to mess with Fate a few times in his life. He already had. If it wasn’t for the Whittemores, he wouldn’t be there.

_Fate fucked with me first,_ he snapped, ice forming in his hands. He exhaled shakily and closed his eyes. _Derek shouldn’t be left to a life of loneliness because of a mistake._ He wasn’t sure why he cared, but he opened his eyes and sat down again, before Derek got even more curious.

Warmth wrapped around Jackson and he frowned. _He won’t be alone. He’s got you to worry about, once he puts himself together again._ Jackson tried not to gag at the sappiness of the words and shuddered. The moment he turned twenty-one, he was out of California and going back home to Pennsylvania. That way, he wouldn’t be endangering the Hale pack even further. He couldn’t think of a single thing to keep him there.

\--

The next day, Jackson was sitting on the wrought-iron chair again, staring at Vincent. The dragon was speaking to his nephew in Greek and Jackson glared at him. He had waited over a year to practice more of his magic and he wasn’t pleased that Vincent was ignoring him.

Narrowing his eyes, Jackson felt his magic swim through his body like ice. The sun in their section was covered by heavy snow clouds, which released their fragile descendants. Vincent hung up and gazed at Jackson, the snow melting on his body. Tilting his head back, Jackson blinked as the fine ice fell into his eyes and grinned. He had no idea that he could change the weather.

“Now, change it back,” Vincent ordered and Jackson frowned, staring up at the clouds. “Now.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes and the icy feeling of his magic spluttered again, but the clouds disappeared and sunshine fell on them once more. Jackson leveled his head and grinned at Vincent. He hadn’t made it snow over all of the town. He managed to bring in the clouds to one section and it was enough to get Vincent’s attention.

“Talia said her children saw you create a dome to stop the rain,” Vincent said, glancing at the table. A pot of peppermint tea appeared, along with two cups.

“Yeah, Derek and Laura saw it. Then Stiles saw it…” Jackson stared at his cup and sighed. “I didn’t even think. I just did it.”

“Don’t worry about it, _mikros_ ,” Vincent said quietly and sipped the tea. “They thought you had manipulated the water to bend around you, instead of using air to keep it at bay.”

Jackson nodded and sipped the tea, feeling the warmth and then the coolness of the peppermint. “Something bad is going to happen to Derek,” he said and frowned when Vincent nodded. “You know?”

“I saw it the day I met him, _mikros_. You and Stiles are just learning how to handle that kind of power. I spoke with Stiles before I came here.” He gestured around at their table. “He thinks you’re going to do something stupid, like mess with the future.”

Jackson lowered his eyes. “Derek’s in love.”

“Not with this girl, he isn’t. He just believes he is, because his brain is sending all the wrong chemicals.” Vincent finished his tea and grabbed a piece of lemon teacake. “There’s a lesson he needs to learn from her and he can only learn that from her death.”

“That doesn’t seem…” Jackson trailed off into a sigh. “Fair,” he finished and closed his eyes. He was relating it back to him. He had lost his parents before he even knew what they looked like. He had never seen his mother’s smile or heard his father’s laugh. He opened his eyes and nodded. Even though it hurt, he had learned a lesson from his parents’ deaths.

“It really isn’t,” Vincent said, biting the cake. He swallowed and gazed at Jackson pensively. “But he has his pack to help him through it.”

“The Hales aren’t…as bad as I thought they were,” Jackson said, wrinkling his nose. “Talia hasn’t told anyone else about me. How did she know?”

“Ice wolves love the cold. They relish in it, as it brings them closer to their element. You didn’t.” Vincent finished his piece of cake and brushed the crumbs off his fingers. “Drink your tea before it gets cold.”

Jackson finished his tea and sat back. “Stiles and I got into a fight over a girl,” he said and Vincent laughed.

“Oh, _mikros_! I thought that wouldn’t happen until high school.” Vincent sighed contently. “But since the two of you are speaking mind to mind, I’m assuming things were patched?”

Jackson shrugged, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoody. “I honestly don’t know. I…We argued about my breed and she was just a convenience to make him hurt more. I… He was hurt badly by it and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’ve been keeping tabs, _mikros_ ,” Vincent said and refilled Jackson’s cup. “Talia told me that Derek helped you and also that you’ve nearly killed him twice.”

“He keeps touching me!” Jackson huffed and brought his feet onto his chair.

“He’s a werewolf, Jax,” Vincent stated and Jackson’s eyes flicked upward. “Touching is part of who they are. Just learn to accept it. You might even find comfort in the touches.”

Jackson stared at Vincent, his tea exploding over his face. His eyes turned smug when Vincent lowered his cup and glared at him, eyes swirling between ruby and emerald for a moment. “Just learn to accept it,” he said and smirked when Vincent growled. “You might even find comfort in it.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes, waving his hand over his face. He pulled the tea from his skin and clothing and flicked it to the ground. “That was uncalled for. Make more tea.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and glanced at the teapot. Within seconds, there was steam waffling from the spout. “Give me a challenge, next time,” he said.

Thunder rumbled overhead and Jackson looked up as a downpour hit him. He frowned and brought up the dome, looking at his ruined clothing. His eyes flashed and he glared at Vincent, who just smirked at him. The dragon was still dry and enjoying his fresh cup of tea.

Raising an eyebrow, Jackson ran a hand over his body, pulling the water from his clothes and hair. Vincent watched as he flicked it to the ground and nodded approvingly. The rain stopped and the clouds vanished, so Jackson lowered the dome, making sure the water ran to the side of them.

“You barely have to think now,” Vincent said and smiled. “In a few more years, you won’t need me. Everything will just come naturally.”

“I don’t want to think about that,” Jackson muttered and glared at the table. “I like seeing you during the summer. It means I don’t have to think about anything, except my magic.”

“Hmm,” Vincent hummed as Jackson drank his tea. “So when we talk about the Hales, you don’t think on the answers or try to bring up any memories?”

“I’ve been repressing the memories of the Hales since I got here. I only keep what’s important, like Talia knowing about me…and almost killing Derek.” Jackson raised his eyes. “I only did that once, by the way. At Christmas. The first time was just a warning.”

“If you don’t want him to know about you, I suggest you stop suffocating him. He’ll eventually realize that only your breed controls air,” Vincent said gently and Jackson growled, finishing his tea. “And I would suggest being careful in the future.”

Jackson’s brow furrowed at the serious edge to Vincent’s light tones. “Okay,” he agreed. It wasn’t often that Vincent warned him about something, but he was smart enough to listen. “When?”

“You’ll know. Keep Stiles safe and he’ll protect you.” Vincent stood and the tea and cake vanished from the table. “That’s your homework. Keep the metal wolf safe.”

Jackson stared at Vincent and nodded, slipping off the chair. They walked back to the Hale house together. Peter was in the front, dodging fireballs and metal spikes. He froze when he saw Vincent and raised an eyebrow, running a critical eye over the dragon. Jackson smirked and hugged Vincent tightly, before he went up to the porch, watching for a few minutes while Vincent introduced himself to Peter.

Glancing at Stiles quickly, Jackson turned and went inside. He undid his hoody and froze, spinning around when Derek followed him in. He relaxed slightly and grabbed a Gucci sweatshirt, finding it warmer than the hoody he had on previously. He stood at the window, watching as a breeze danced through the trees. The old oak had been fine for most of the year. As far as he could tell, no one had used it for target practice.

“How did it go with Vincent?”

“Well,” Jackson answered. “I got the feeling that I was meant to apologize for attempting to kill you.”

Derek laughed and ruffled Jackson’s hair, laughing harder when he growled. Jackson pulled his head back and fixed his hair. “Don’t worry about it. Laura and Cora have tried to kill me on more than one occasion, too. You’re the first to almost get there, though.”

“It isn’t my fault you’re an idiot,” Jackson said and Derek just smiled at him. Jackson frowned, confused about the smile. It wasn’t the normal patient one, it almost seemed real. “What?”

“I think you’re starting to like it here,” Derek teased and Jackson shook his head. “I think you might actually like us and not find us beneath you anymore.”

“Oh, no. That hasn’t changed,” Jackson said. “You’re still beneath me, on the food chain and totem pole.”

“What about as a friend?”

“You’re _sixteen_ ,” Jackson said, not bothering to hide the disgust. “If you want to be friends with someone that you have absolutely nothing in common with, good for you, Sparky.”

“Your words don’t hold the usual venom to them, Jackson.” Derek placed his hand on the nape of his neck, thumb stroking the fine hairs. “There’s nothing wrong with having a friend.”

“I have Stiles and Vincent, you weirdo.” Jackson tried pulling away from Derek’s hand, but froze when it tightened.

“There’s still nothing wrong with having more friends. You’d be surprised at how nice people are if you actually treat them kindly.”

“Why in the hell would I want to do that?” Jackson pushed at Derek’s arm and the hand disappeared.

Derek stared at him. “You’re a wolf,” he said and frowned. “You should feel the need to make a pack.” Jackson lowered his eyes. “You don’t feel that need?”

Jackson glared out the window. His breed had always been loners. They were never taken on by other packs, because of the trouble they brought with them. They were outcast and wandered alone. Something Jackson assumed would happen to him. He didn’t expect the Hale and Whittemore packs to take him in, but they did. He hadn’t gotten that sense of security from them, though. He was still waiting for a hunter to show up and destroy it all for him.

“No. I don’t feel it.”

“Give it time,” Derek said, brushing his fingers over Jackson’s neck again and left the room.

Jackson shivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Thanks for the kudos. =3
> 
> Guest1701: Thanks for taking this story's comment cherry. Some things will be explained later on, because gotta keep people interested enough to continue reading. I'm glad you're enjoying (and swearing to stay up-to-date is sweet) and I hope you liked this chapter as well.
> 
> Aria_Slytherin12thGen: Gah! I missed you, even though you commented on Pringles. I still missed you! Yes, I agree. Thankfully, the rest of the family knows how to block out Jackson's tantrums. They probably knew what they were getting into, before they agreed to take them on. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again! <3


	3. Age 11-12

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

**Age 11**

It took Derek months to get over the death of his girlfriend. Jackson wasn’t sure how much it hurt to lose someone he loved, as he kept himself very guarded there. But Derek seemed to take his protector duties too far. He stood outside the bathroom while Jackson showered and didn’t leave the bedroom until Jackson was asleep. It honestly worried him. He didn’t think that Derek would become… _over_ protective.

What little freedom he had around the house was suddenly gone. By the time fall came around of their eleventh year, Jackson was at his wits’ end. He just wanted to shower without someone standing guard outside the door. He wanted to walk through the woods without Derek _on_ his side. Even Stiles was given the freedom to walk around the trees without Peter glued to him. Practicing any magic went out the window.

The worst part was Stiles shooting him apologetic looks, like he could understand what Jackson was going through. Jackson just sighed and completed his homework, going for his nightly run through the woods. He was surprised that Derek kept pace easily. He climbed up the trees, mostly to get some freedom, even if for few a seconds, away from Derek. He understood that Derek felt he had failed his girlfriend, but Jackson was a little more resilient than a human.

After climbing to the top of an oak tree, Jackson paused to catch his breath. He stared at Derek, who stood on the branch beside him. He just dropped his head and gave up. Derek would chase him through Tartarus and back, which was a great quality for a protector, but Jackson _needed_ some freedom. He was tired of having Derek’s scent around him. He could barely smell his own scent, let alone the warm metal scent of Stiles.

Climbing down, Jackson’s foot slipped and his claws came out, one set in the trunk of the tree and the other in Derek’s wrist. He looked up and found that the werewolf had grabbed his wrist. With ease, Derek pulled him up and placed the shifter on his back. Jackson let him have it, simply because he did stop him from breaking a bone or two and because it was clearly something Derek wanted.

On the ground, Jackson slipped from Derek’s back and checked his nails. He growled when he saw he had broken two nails on his right hand and torn the nailbeds. Derek’s blood was under his left nails, but he could scrub those clean. It was going to take a night’s rest for his right hand to look perfect and manicured again.

“Idiot,” Jackson snapped at himself. He was so surefooted that slipping from a branch was a stupid mistake. He was mostly embarrassed that he had slipped and that led to him breaking two nails. “Let’s go, Hale.”

Jackson led the way to the Hale house, shoving the door off the hinges. Laura came running down the hallway and stared at him. For the first time in months, Jackson was allowed some freedom while Derek explained what happened. In the shower, Jackson scrubbed his left hand extra hard, wanting to remove all traces of Derek’s blood from him. He washed and wrapped a towel around his waist, going to the bedroom.

“You okay?” Stiles asked as Jackson toweled off and dressed.

Jackson had just pulled his pajama pants on when Derek entered the room. “Show me your hand,” he said and Jackson glared.

“I’m fine,” Jackson said with forced calmness. He gave a small smile to Stiles, his way of apologizing for the anger about to come from his mouth at Derek. Stiles hated it when he and Derek argued. “I broke two nails,” he snapped at Derek. “I didn’t puncture a lung!”

“The point is, you _could_ have. Now show me your hand,” Derek growled, eyes sparkling blue for a moment.

Jackson frowned and glanced at Stiles, who was also staring at Derek. As far as Jackson knew, werewolves had warm gold eyes. He knew Laura and Cora did. He also knew that Talia had the red eyes of an alpha. Neither of them had seen Derek’s eyes before, but he and Stiles had just assumed he had gold.

“What happened, Derek? I get that Jackson is a little over-dramatic, especially about his appearance, but you don’t need to worry about him like this,” Stiles said, trying to calm the werewolf.

“The idiot slipped climbing down a tree,” Derek said and Jackson glared at the floor. He grabbed Jackson’s wrist and forced the fingers open, making Jackson wince. “You tore your nailbeds, too.”

Jackson watched as Derek’s mouth got closer to his hand. “Put your mouth anywhere near my body and I’ll rip your spine out through your throat,” he warned and pulled his hand back. Derek stared at him, eyes wide with shock at the threat.

“Damn, Jacks,” Stiles said, backing away from the shifter. “I get that he’s been overprotective, but was that necessary?”

“No,” Jackson answered. “But it certainly made me feel good. Get out!”

Derek didn’t say anything and left the bedroom. Jackson sank onto his bed and pulled a pillow over his head. He didn’t want to be harsh with Derek, considering what he lost a few months ago, but he would be damned if he was going to let a werewolf baby him.

Stiles sat on his bed and placed a hand on the small of his back. Jackson sighed and pulled his head out from under the pillow. He would need to apologize to Derek. He was just trying to heal the torn nailbeds, but they didn’t hurt. Jackson had a hard time feeling pain and that was a good thing, unless it wasn’t self-inflicted. There was only a slight throbbing sensation from them and they would be healed by the morning.

“Okay, okay,” Jackson said and rolled off the bed. “I’ll apologize.

Stiles smiled as Jackson pulled his shirt on, padding out of the room. He paused and sniffed, unsure if Derek went to his bedroom. He went downstairs and that’s where Jackson headed. He found Derek trying to fix the front door and Jackson winced, forgetting he had done that. He sighed softly and the door was fixed, making Derek step back and stare at it, before he turned around.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said, rocking back and forth on his feet. “You’ve been stupidly overprotective of me for the last few months. And I understand that you think something bad is going to happen to me, but I need some breathing room.”

Jackson’s eyes widened when Derek walked up to him and pulled him into a hug. He hated the fact that he was only up to the sternum of the werewolf, but he assumed that was the six years between them. He frowned when Derek’s arms tightened around him.

“Okay,” he said and tried to pull back. “Breathing room! Breathing room!”

“Stop trying to suffocate him, Derek,” Laura said with a chuckle. Jackson inhaled deeply when Derek finally released him. “This is for you,” she said and handed Jackson a mug of hot chocolate.

“What’s this?” he asked and sniffed at it. He wrinkled his nose as it smelled like sugar on sugar. “I’m not drinking that,” he said and handed it back. “That would kill my figure.”

Jackson shuddered and headed upstairs, as Stiles came out of the bedroom, his nose twitching. “Did Laura make hot chocolate?” he asked, his eyes dancing and Jackson nodded.

While Stiles ran downstairs, Jackson shook his head and double-checked his homework. When he was certain that everything was correct, he turned off the overhead light and switched on the lamp. He had moved from _Oliver Twist_ to _A Christmas Carol_. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t care.

\--

The first time he relived a memory was only a few nights after Derek gave him some breathing space. He woke with a gasp, staring at the dark ceiling. His heart was hammering away in his chest and he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to calm down before he woke Stiles. He wasn’t going to explain the memory, which he had mistaken for a nightmare before.

Shaking his head, Jackson went to the bathroom and splashed cool water over his face. A figure filled the bathroom doorway and he glanced over at them. Derek tilted his head and Jackson looked away. He wasn’t that weak that he needed comfort because of a memory. Granted, it was the only memory he had of his birth parents and it wasn’t a pleasant memory, but it was just a memory, nonetheless.

Jackson didn’t fight as Derek took him back to bed and tucked him in. He let Derek run his fingers through his hair for a few minutes, before he turned his back to the werewolf. Derek’s fingers ran down his neck and he turned the lamp off, leaving the room. Jackson shivered.

\--

Thanksgiving was the same as it always was. Jackson kept his eyes down as the others went through what they were grateful for. Their answers hadn’t changed in the slightest, either. Derek was more forceful when telling Stiles and Jackson that they were family, as though he was trying to convince himself of it more than anything. Stiles was still grateful for his father and Jackson just stared at his plate, grateful for magic.

The magic that he hadn’t let drop since he arrived there. The magic that allowed him to protect himself, Stiles and the Hale pack. The magic he was tired of keeping up, because he felt incomplete. He wanted to show his colors as confidently as Stiles did. He wanted to wow the Hale pack with his magic, but most of it had to stay hidden. So, magic he was grateful for, but was starting to despise.

\--

Christmas went the same as it usually did. Jackson joined them for breakfast and disappeared up to the bedroom, not bothering to open any gifts. His parents still hadn’t come for a visit and Jackson was almost certain they were dead. He wanted to believe that Talia would tell him if something like that happened, but she might also not want him to think he was responsible for another set of parents being murdered.

The only thing that changed that Christmas was Talia coming up to see him instead of Derek. She didn’t say anything as she stood beside him, watching the snow fall lightly outside. He huffed on the window and it frosted over, which made Talia smile.

“You don’t have to hide from us, little one,” she said gently and Jackson nodded.

“Are my parents still alive?” Jackson asked and turned his head, gazing at her.

“They are,” she said and sighed softly. “They don’t want to lead any hunters here, though.”

“I could see _them_ for Christmas. I miss Silver Falls.” Jackson closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, shakily. He opened his eyes and went back to staring out the window. “Will I ever see them again?”

“I don’t know, Jackson,” Talia answered honestly. “I know they’re worried about you.”

Jackson nodded. “Thank you for speaking with me,” he said, trying to sound as polite as possible.

“We’re all here for you, Jackson.” Talia placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

She left the room and Jackson stared out the window.

\--

The first time he experienced a birthday party was for Lydia Martin. She had handed out the invitation for her birthday, two weeks before the date. Jackson noticed that she handed one to Stiles and smiled, seeing the way his eyes lit up. His magic almost dropped, until Jackson nudged him.

Peter drove them to Lydia’s house and came in with them. He mixed with the adults, while Jackson and Stiles accepted a hug from Lydia, being pointed in the direction of a table to place their gifts there. Jackson frowned as he caught Stiles’ anxiety, seeing all the large, brightly wrapped gifts. His eyes were on his small box and Jackson smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“The smaller the gift, the more expensive it is,” he whispered. “Besides, you _made_ that for her. It’s a lot better than some store bought crap here.”

Stiles nodded and swallowed, placing the box on the table. Jackson turned around and scanned the crowd, tilting his head as he saw a new kid he never saw before. His dark skin was beautiful, as were his soulful brown eyes. Putting on his best smile, Jackson approached the boy that was standing alone in a corner.

“I’m Jackson Whittemore,” he said and held his hand out.

“Danny Mehealani,” the boy said shyly and Jackson tilted his head. “I’m not new. You’ve just never seen me before. I grew up with Lydia, but I attend a different school.”

“That sucks. We’d totally rock our school if you attended it,” Jackson said with a grin.

“Are you always this cocky?” Danny asked and Jackson shrugged.

“This is me being shy,” Jackson answered and grinned when Danny’s eyes widened. “There’s nothing wrong with turning the charm on, in order to make a new friend.”

“Who says I want to be your friend? Maybe you’re not the type of person I want as a friend,” Danny challenged and narrowed his eyes slightly.

“I’m everybody’s type,” Jackson said, his grin becoming a charming smile. “Give me a shot. You might even enjoy the ride.”

Danny’s eyebrows went up. “All right. You have the duration of this party to make me like you.”

Jackson leaned in a little closer and smirked. “You already do or I wouldn’t have to prove it,” he said and went over to the punch bowl. “Stiles,” he said and his pack brother turned around, a cupcake in his mouth. “This is Danny, my best friend.”

“How did you even know I was here?”

Stiles smiled and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Stiles,” he greeted and shook Danny’s hand quickly, accepting the napkin from Jackson and wiping the frosting off his cheek.

“Danny.” The brown eyes grew curious as he looked between Stiles and Jackson. “This dichotomy doesn’t seem normal,” he said and Jackson shrugged.

“Maybe in some other alternate reality,” he said and grinned when Danny raised an eyebrow. “Stiles is pretty much my brother.”

Stiles grinned, almost looking ready to cry. “Thanks, man,” he said.

Jackson smiled as Stiles excused himself and turned to Danny. “So, I attend Beacon Hills Middle School and I’ll be attending Beacon Hills High in two years. How about you?”

“I’m not in Beacon Hills Middle, but I will be going to Beacon Hills High in two years,” Danny said and Jackson poured him some punch. “Why are you talking to me, by the way?”

“Is there some reason I shouldn’t be?” Jackson asked and sipped the punch. “Oh, god! How much sugar is in this?”

Danny laughed. “Best not to ask,” he said and then tilted his head. “Why, are you watching your figure?”

“When you look this good in Fendi, yeah,” Jackson said and fixed his hair. He frowned as he looked at the backdoor. “I’ll be back in a minute. Excuse me.”

Jackson moved through the crowd, politely excusing himself as he ignored Lydia’s attempts to have him meet her friends. He slipped out the backdoor, closing it behind him. He found Derek behind a shrub and stared at him, unable to believe he couldn’t be left alone for a few hours.

“Peter is looking after us,” Jackson said and shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping an eye on you,” Derek answered with a shrug.

“Go home,” Jackson ordered and sighed, heading for the door. He slipped back inside and plastered a smile on his face. “Dan—”

“It’s _my_ birthday,” Lydia said as she pulled Jackson over to her friends. “Ladies, this is Jackson Whittemore.”

Jackson blinked as the girls smiled at him, several of them flipping their hair over their shoulders. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted and smiled. “I’m Jackson.” He placed a hand on the nape of his neck, suddenly wishing Derek was in there, holding him.

Lydia was introducing the girls to him and Jackson kept glancing back at Danny, seeing that Stiles was keeping him company. The last thing he wanted was to talk to girls he had less in common with than some kid he just met. However, his parents raised him to be proper, so he repeated their names back to them and shook their hands.

After a few extra minutes of listening to them talk and not hearing a word, Jackson politely excused himself and rejoined Danny, practically slumping on him. “That was hard,” he said and grabbed a cup of punch. He took a sip and wrinkled his nose. “I forgot about that. Do you think they’d be upset if I asked for tea?”

Danny stared at Jackson, a strange expression on his expressive face. “Um… How old are you? Tea is an old person drink.” He laughed and shook his head.

Jackson felt heat creeping onto his cheeks and huffed at Danny. “I’m an old soul,” he said and chuckled when Danny just laughed again. “Give me your number.”

“Are you making a move on me already, Whittemore?”

“I introduced you as my best friend,” Jackson said with a shrug. “It’s going to be hard to know everything about you if I can’t talk to you late at night.”

Danny narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded and grabbed a pen from his mother. He wrote his number down on a napkin and handed it to Jackson. “You better call me,” he warned and Jackson grinned, slipping the napkin into his jeans.

“I wouldn’t want to face your wrath,” he said and slung an arm around Danny’s shoulders.

His arm stayed where it was for the rest of the party, except during some of the games. He and Stiles excelled at ‘pin the tail on the donkey,’ as they didn’t get turned around as much as humans did. Stiles demolished the pinata, screaming happily when the candy fell out. Jackson stayed away from the punch bowl for the rest of the party and spoke with Danny about anything that crossed his mind.

After Lydia opened her presents, exclaiming loudly at the gift from Stiles, Peter took them home. Jackson wasn’t going to eat any of the cake and Stiles was claiming a stomach ache at all the sugar he downed in a few hours. Jackson just patted his shoulder as he sat beside him in the back of the Camaro. He wasn’t surprised to see Derek slip into the passenger seat.

That night, he called Danny and spent a further three hours talking.

* * *

**Age 12**

The first time Jackson cried wasn’t because he was injured or sad. It wasn’t because he made a complete fool of himself. It was because he was terrified he would lose Stiles. Something that shook him to the core one rainy day, after school. Both he and Stiles had tried out for the school soccer team, but Jackson wanted something with a little more contact and decided to wait until high school for that. Until then, he was on the school soccer team.

After practice, he had stayed behind to run laps and get his speed up for a human. He realized that he was seriously lacking in that department when he wasn’t made captain immediately. He pushed his legs to move harder as his cleats sunk into the mud of the field. He had felt someone watching him and had just assumed it was Derek.

Stiles came out with an umbrella over his head. He watched Jackson push himself and shook his head, going to the bench and standing there. He kept looking around and Jackson knew he had felt the eyes, as well. They had ignored it, as neither caught the feeling of danger and Jackson continued with his laps.

He stopped by Stiles and panted, resting his hands on his knees. Raising his head, Jackson grinned as Stiles shook his head. “You’re already the best on the team, man. You don’t need to push yourself like this,” he said and slapped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

“Over-achiever, remember?” Jackson said and laughed.

He and Stiles froze as they heard a whistling sound. Jackson’s eyes widened as he saw a silver arrow sticking from Stiles’ shoulder. He raised his hand as there was another whistling sound and gasped as the arrow pierced his ribs. He eased Stiles to the bench, staring at the arrow. Silver didn’t work on wolf-shifters, which told him that they weren’t dealing with shifter hunters.

Stiles choked back a sob as Jackson ripped the arrow from his shoulder. “Not sure that made it better,” he wheezed and Jackson glared at the area the arrows came from.

Through the rain, he and Stiles managed to see two figures standing within the trees. Placing a hand on Stiles’ good shoulder, Jackson let his eyes flash vivid azure for a split second and gritted his teeth as the wound on Stiles’ moved onto his body. He sank to his knees, trying not to breathe with the arrow between his ribs. Another arrow was fired and Jackson’s eyes widened as Stiles brought up a wall of gold to deflect it.

Another arrow came towards them and Jackson cried out as Stiles’ took it through the throat. He heard Peter shouting, as he and Derek ran by them and hunted down the hunters. Jackson ignored his own pain and stared at Stiles, trying to figure out what to do. Stiles coughed up blood and Jackson calmed his heart, closing his eyes as he gripped the arrow and pulled it out. Stiles made a wet sound that could’ve been a scream.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson whispered and sniffled, trying to get his thoughts in order. His blood covered hands shook as he held them over the hole.

Again, his eyes flashed blue for a second and the wound moved up his hands and situated on his body. He coughed blood onto Stiles’ surprised face and fell to the side, passing out in his wolf form.

\--

Jackson could hear people talking. All of the voices were familiar and he was warm. He inhaled deeply and realized he had been returned to the Hale house. Making sure his magic was up, Jackson opened his eyes and looked around the bedroom.

“You can’t blame yourself, Derek,” Talia was saying gently downstairs. “No one thought they were in danger at the school.”

“Did you _see_ him?” Derek hissed and Jackson knew Derek would blame himself for years. “I failed as his protector.”

“No, you didn’t. _We_ failed.” Talia sighed softly. “We didn’t think to check the woods around the school. You can bet that we won’t make that mistake again.”

Jackson sat up and winced as his ribs still felt tender. Stiles was sitting on the edge of his own bed, holding his head in his hands. “What happened?” Jackson asked and Stiles’ head snapped up.

“Oh, god! You’re alive!” Stiles jumped onto Jackson’s bed and hugged him tightly. There were footsteps thundering upstairs and Jackson winced as the door was thrown open.

“Cool. What happened?” he asked again and patted Stiles on the back.

“You don’t remember?” Talia asked as she stood beside Derek. “You and Stiles were attacked.”

Jackson frowned and shook his head as Stiles finally relinquished his hold. “No, I don’t remember that. I remember running laps and Stiles watching me, but that’s it.”

Talia smiled and crouched down, placing a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Two hunters attacked you and Stiles. You took all the damage from Stiles so he could fight back. Peter and Derek showed up too late.”

Jackson continued to frown, looking at Stiles and then Talia. “I think they got there in time. We’re both still here.” He shrugged and looked at Derek. “Stop blaming yourself.”

“You almost _died_ ,” Derek said through clenched teeth.

Jackson shrugged again, wincing as it pulled at his ribs awkwardly. “But I didn’t,” he said easily and massaged his ribs. There was a sharp pain. “God, what happened to my ribs?”

“You took an arrow to the ribs,” Stiles said and grinned. It dropped from his face quickly as he stared down at the bedcovers. “Thank you. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you cry.”

“You’re my brother,” Jackson said simply. “And you,” he said angrily at Derek. “You need to get over whatever hang ups you have. You always knew that hunters would come searching for us. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Derek opened his mouth, clearly wanting to argue the fact. He closed it and nodded as Jackson raised an eyebrow at him. He said nothing more as he left the bedroom and Talia smiled, standing. She gave Jackson’s shoulder a squeeze and Jackson flopped back.

“At least knowing what I did explains why I feel like death warmed over,” he muttered and snuggled down.

“You healed me,” Stiles whispered, as though the others didn’t already know. “You aren’t an ice wolf.”

Jackson didn’t say anything. He just rolled over, showing Stiles his back. There was nothing he could say.

\--

After that, Jackson had to deal with Derek sticking by his side again. Even around the house. He hung around when Jackson would call Danny, who wanted to know why he was out of school for three days. Jackson easily lied and said he had a terrible cold. Derek frowned at him, eyes flicking down to his chest for a moment, before he turned around and tried to pretend he wasn’t listening.

For the first time since he moved to California, Jackson couldn’t wait for Derek to graduate and move out to college. Just when he thought he could get a break from having a werewolf stapled to his side, Derek decided that hunters attacking was a bad thing. Jackson wanted to tell him that he was fine and that there was nothing to worry about. He’d taken the damage from Stiles because he could. He wasn’t about to lose his brother.

His body had healed perfectly. There wasn’t a scar to remind him of the damage his body took, which he was grateful about. Explaining the scars when he was meant to have a cold would have been difficult. Jackson spent most of his days in the living room, reading a classic. _How to Kill a Mockingbird_ was next on his list and he was searching the bookcases for it when Laura entered.

“Where’s Derek?”

“Passed out, I think,” Jackson said quietly. He didn’t want to wake the werewolf, as he was enjoying the rare minutes of time to himself. “You guys have _How to Kill a Mockingbird_ , right?”

“I think Derek was reading that one,” Laura said as she joined Jackson, searching the shelves.

“Oh. How about _Lord of the Flies_?”

Laura stared at him, shock clear in her eyes. “Isn’t that a little dark for your age?”

Jackson shrugged. “I enjoy it. It’s a good look into how fragile the human mind can be,” he said as he scanned the book titles.

Laura smirked and wrapped an arm around Jackson’s neck, kissing the top of his head. “You’re a messed up kid, but I like that.” She released Jackson and grabbed the book, handing it to him. “If anyone asks, you found it on your own.”

Jackson sat on the sofa and opened the book to the first page. “Laura,” he said as he saw her move out the entrance. She paused and looked back. “How is he?”

“A little broken that he almost lost you,” she answered and smiled sadly. “He takes his protection duties very seriously. We might not know what breed you are, but we know that you need to be protected. Knowing that you almost died hurt him deeply. Don’t begrudge him some time to keep an eye on you.”

Jackson nodded and dropped his eyes to the book. Once he was alone, he glanced up at the ceiling. He shook his head and began reading.

\--

Derek was leaving at the end of the summer, to attend college. Talia had spoken to Jackson about it and he had just tilted his head. Months without Derek at his side, making sure he didn’t do something stupid? That sounded like a dream come true. He could finally have some freedom to explore and heal the trees and animals that needed it. Derek, of course, was not happy when Jackson grinned excitedly at him, hearing the news.

Vincent arrived the first day of summer break and Jackson ran to him, jumping into his arms. The dragon easily swung the wolf-shifter onto his back and walked them to their table. Jackson held his arms out, feeling as though he was finally free. He didn’t feel smothered and suffocated by the overprotectiveness of Derek. Talia had agreed to take over during the months that Derek was away.

Jackson was fine with that. As long as Talia gave him some freedom to explore and trusted his judgement to know when danger was around, he was more than happy to have her as a protector. While he wanted to return to Pennsylvania, he found he could be happy there. Talia knew what breed he was and she knew what his breed was capable of. Keeping himself hidden from her wasn’t a challenge. For once, he felt he could be himself and enjoy what the preserve had to offer.

Vincent placed him on a wrought-iron chair and sat opposite him. Jackson huffed, creating a teapot, teacups and teacakes. Vincent raised an eyebrow and smiled, pouring the tea into the cups and sat back, gazing at Jackson silently. Jackson smiled into his tea, his mind still on the freedom he was about to receive for his final year of middle school. He would get four years without Derek weighing him down and he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over his face.

If he was being honest, Jackson knew he would miss the little touches Derek forced on him. He didn’t like thinking about how well Derek’s hand fitted on the nape of his neck, or how nice it felt when those fingers brushed over the skin there, setting his nerves alight. He was going to assume it felt nice because he wasn’t used to it. His parents never touched him there. He hadn’t even seen them in four years.

“Something just killed your good mood,” Vincent said, glaring to his right.

Jackson had heard the footsteps and glared with Vincent. Peter walked by, nodding at them as he continued with his patrol. They waited until the werewolf was completely out of earshot before they continued their conversation. Jackson didn’t mind Peter, but he wished Derek could be more like him. Peter trusted Stiles.

“I was just thinking of my parents,” Jackson said and dropped his eyes. “They haven’t been to see me at all.”

“They aren’t going to risk revealing your location to other hunters,” Vincent explained gently and Jackson just nodded. He’d heard the same thing from Talia. “They miss you, Jax. Don’t think they’ve forgotten about you.”

Jackson raised his eyes, feeling empty. “They don’t even call on my birthday or for Christmas. They might not want to reveal my location, but they could find a way to speak to me, at least.” He sighed and shook his head, pulling his feet onto the chair and tilting his head back.

Vincent groaned as storm clouds rolled in. Jackson put up the dome around them, protecting his expensive clothing and the tea from the snow and rain that fell. These private moments with Vincent were the only time he felt he could express himself correctly. He didn’t need to hide who and what he was. He could let the weather change to suit his mood. He could cry over the fact that Stiles almost died because he wanted to better himself.

Resting his forehead on his knees, Jackson closed his eyes. His own stupidity and need to be better had almost killed someone he cared about. Both of them had felt the eyes on them. Neither were used to hunters, though. Neither had realized that being watched could mean danger.

“You still haven’t told Stiles what you are, have you?” Vincent asked as he drank his tea.

Jackson sniffled and raised his head, gazing at Vincent with blurry vision. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t do that to him. He doesn’t deserve the stress and fear that he’s also protecting me.”

Vincent stared at him. “Don’t take the world on alone, _mikros_ ,” he said gently, warmth in his voice. “They’ll be happy to fight with you, but if you push them away, they won’t fight for you.”

Jackson’s eyes widened. The snow and rain stopped, letting the sun out again in their little area. The dome disappeared and he nodded, drinking his tea. He turned his head to the left, hearing someone walking towards them. Stiles paused when he saw them and grinned, jogging over the table. His eyes widened as he looked it over.

“This is nice. Did you conjure it, Vincent?” Stiles asked, his eyes somehow widening more when Vincent shook his head. “You, Jackson? I didn’t know you could conjure metal!”

Jackson finished his tea and sat back, slipping his hands under his sweatshirt. “We can conjure anything, Stiles. A table and chairs isn’t that impressive.” Stiles lowered his eyes and Jackson frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

Stiles smiled and shook his head. “I knew you were an over-achiever, but something like this is impressive, for our age.” He grinned. It was Jackson’s turn to lower his eyes. Stiles raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t conjure these today, did you?” Jackson shook his head and Stiles’ mouth fell open. “How magically advanced are you?”

_Tell him,_ mikros _. Trust._ Jackson glanced at Vincent for a moment and then slid his eyes over to Stiles. “Extremely,” he answered and Stiles tilted his head. Jackson swallowed. “I’m a—”

“Down!” Vincent shouted and tackled the wolf-shifters as an explosion happened. He raised his head, sniffing the air. “Dragon hunters. Get back to the house. They’re here for me.”

Jackson and Stiles stumbled to their feet, gripping each other’s hand and ran for the house. They managed to see the house through the trees, when both tripped over a wire they didn’t see. There was snickering from a tree and the wolves rolled over, staring at a woman that was gazing down at them. She was wearing a mask that resembled a dragon skull.

“And what have we here?” she asked and the boys glared at her. Her dark eyes widened when Jackson growled. “You…”

Jackson could feel Stiles staring at him as his magic dropped and his eyes swirled. He stared at the woman and she gasped, her body jerking. The sound of ice forming within her rang like crystal chimes and Stiles finally moved his shocked eyes to the woman. She stiffened and fell from the branch, landing on the ground. Both could hear something shattering within her body and Jackson exhaled sharply, bringing his magic up.

Stiles grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. They ran to the house, going inside and staring at the door. Neither knew if the hunters would come for them. Jackson tried reaching Vincent via their telepathy and was instantly shut down. Vincent was too seasoned to be caught off guard and lose to dragon hunters.

“You…Your eyes,” Stiles gasped as he stared at Jackson. “You killed… Thank you.”

Jackson shrugged and turned around when Laura ran to them, gathering them in her arms. She hugged them tightly and stepped back. “The others are out fighting the hunters,” she explained, both Stiles’ and Jackson’s eyes widening as they stared at the door.

Derek was out there, fighting against dragon hunters. Fear laid a cold hand on his heart as he held Stiles’ hand tightly. There were roars of pain, anger and explosions as the hunters tried to blind Vincent and render him useless enough to kill. Laura took them upstairs, staying with them and trying to take their minds off the battle that was happening in the woods.

_I won’t tell anyone._ Jackson frowned as Stiles’ voice whispered through his mind. He looked at the metal wolf, finding he was staring at him. _I understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m sorry I kept pushing it._ Jackson shook his head and hugged Stiles, knowing he would keep his word. Stiles might be the same age as him, but there was a sense of loyalty from the young metal wolf.

The shifters and werewolf covered their ears as a piercing roar sounded. Jackson had only ever heard that sound once before. Vincent was in his animal form. A dragon’s roar had a powerful effect on hunters, it froze them with fear and made them easy targets to pick off. Jackson was surprised it took him so long to shift and do that, but with the werewolves around, he needed to make sure they were safe.

Lowering their hands, Jackson and Stiles stared at the door to the room, while Laura looked out the window. All of their ears picked up the sounds of people dying. It lasted only a few more minutes, before silence fell over the preserve and the wolves could hear their thumping hearts. Jackson and Stiles looked at each other, before they hugged. They weren’t sure if all of the werewolves would make it back.

The door to the house opened and Laura stepped out of the bedroom, going to the stairs. She called to Jackson and Stiles and the shifters ran out, staring at the Hale pack. Jackson’s eyes widened when he saw Derek standing there, gazing at him. The werewolf’s eyes were hard, especially as Stiles ran down the stairs, hugging Peter and Talia tightly.

Jackson’s eyes focused on Cora, who limped into the house. She muttered under her breath. As she passed him on the stairs, Jackson closed his eyes and took hold of her arm. She hissed as the bone healed and then frowned at Jackson, who smiled at her. Cora said her thanks and went to the bathroom. Stiles, Laura, Talia and Peter moved into the living room. Derek came up the stairs, cupping Jackson’s cheek and staring into his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Jackson said and pulled his head back. “You, however, look like something the cat dragged in. I suggest you shower.”

Derek nodded and straightened. “Vincent wanted me to tell you something. He said to build up your carnival. I assume that means something to you.”

Jackson lowered his eyes and nodded. Derek’s fingers brushed over the nape of his neck. Once the door closed, he shivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. This is me wishing everyone a safe and happy holiday season from the great Down Under! <3
> 
> Reddy_no_1: Welcome back! Yes, think of it as a Christmas miracle that I managed to get these chapters on. I can't speak to Americans (being that I'm from Australia), but math was always my strong point, so I was doing calculus really young. So, we'll just say it was meant to show their intelligence. Thank you so much for your comment and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too! <3
> 
> Guest1701: I know there's questions around and trust me, they will be answered in due time. I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I hope this chapter kept you happy and answered some of those questions! <3
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: I am so sorry! I've been misspelling your name for so long! I am so, so sorry about that! Please forgive me. And yes, I completely agree, but Jackson hasn't really been known for thinking about the future. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! <3
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	4. Age 14

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

**Age 14**

Jackson laid on his bed, legs crossed as he scrolled through the newsfeed on Facebook. Stiles was tapping away on his laptop, muttering under his breath. Jackson raised his hands a little and gazed at the metal wolf. Stiles’ eyes were swirling between ruby and gold swiftly. Something about the assignment had him angry and Jackson understood that. He’d finished the previous night. History was one of his favorite subjects and he knew Stiles enjoyed it, but the first war really had him stumped, for some reason.

Lowering his hands, Jackson continued through his newsfeed, seeing that Lydia was showing off a new dress she got. Danny showed off his high score on some game, which was then beaten by Scott a few minutes later. Jackson knew that Danny wouldn’t stop until his score was the highest again. Smiling, Jackson shook his head and sat up as Stiles growled.

Locking his phone, Jackson grabbed his assignment and handed it to Stiles. The metal wolf looked up, before he sighed and took the papers, reading through them. Smiling, Jackson left him to it. He went down to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge. He sat at the breakfast counter and moved from Facebook to Twitter. Saturdays were usually that boring, unless they had a game.

A text message from an unknown number showed up and Jackson frowned, clearing it from his notification bar. He didn’t need some random asking him about his homework, especially if they got the wrong number. He continued through Twitter and wondered why he even had an account there. It was very rare for something intelligent to be said and closed the app as another text message came through.

_It’s Derek._ Raising an eyebrow, Jackson ignored the text message and drank his juice. He threw the bottle into the recycle bin and went into the living room, dropping onto the sofa beside Cora. She was writing furiously in her notebook, books spread in front of her. Jackson wondered what it was about the first assignment that sent her and Stiles over the top, as though whatever they wrote wasn’t going to be perfect the first time.

Cora’s phone dinged and she growled, checking the message. “Derek wants to know if your phone is broken,” she said and glared at Jackson. “Just answer him.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels, until he found some horror series. “He isn’t my protector while he’s at college. He can get off his high horse about it.”

Cora shook her head and replied to the message. Seconds later, Jackson’s phone vibrated and he saw that Derek had messaged him. He closed his eyes and silenced his phone entirely. He knew it would only take a few more messages for Cora to throw it at a wall again. He was tired of having to repair or replace his phone. If it wasn’t Derek, then it was Danny or Lydia. The first assignment always put the other two on edge. Somehow, as the assignments got more tedious, Cora and Stiles grew more comfortable.

When his phone screen lit up, Jackson smiled as he saw it was a message from Lydia. She wanted to know if he was free that night and Jackson answered that he was. He knew there would be at least ten minutes between the messages, regardless of how quickly he responded. Lydia always wanted to make sure he was waiting and Jackson honestly got bored of it quickly. He would answer and then ignore his phone until it lit up again.

“Jackson,” Laura said as she came into the living room. “Is there something wrong with your phone? Derek says you aren’t replying to him or even seeing his messages.”

“School started a month ago. He just needs to calm down and let me live my life,” Jackson said with a shrug, creating a bowl of popcorn.

“Reply to him, Jackson,” Laura said and Jackson groaned as Cora snickered.

“I will,” he said when Laura stared at him. “You mean right now?” Laura nodded and Jackson sighed, grabbing his phone. He sent a quick, _Hello_ to Derek and locked his phone. “Done.”

Laura shook her head and left the living room. “Like pulling teeth,” she muttered as she returned to the study.

Cora glanced at Jackson. “Why do you do that? It doesn’t take much to respond to someone. You do it with Lydia and Danny within seconds,” she said.

“They’re my friends. They aren’t my overprotective protector, who can’t let loose and just enjoy college life.” Jackson slipped a popped kernel into his mouth and smirked at Cora. “Besides, it’s so easy to piss him off.”

“That doesn’t explain why you do it,” Cora said quietly and Jackson sighed.

“I want him to leave me alone. These last two years have been amazing without him hovering over me, making sure my homework is correct, making sure I don’t get hurt during games. I don’t like being treated like an idiot,” Jackson said, glancing at Cora. She was staring at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Instead of saying anything, Cora just nodded and went back to her chemistry assignment. Jackson cocked an eyebrow, but made no comment and returned his attention to the show. He didn’t know what he said that made her confused, as he only spoke the truth. Derek had been overly clingy to him and it was nice to have some freedom to develop his muscles and his magic.

Jackson smiled, thinking back on the sparring matches he had with Stiles. It had been so _freeing_ to spar with someone and use all of his elements. Talia watched over them, giving Peter a rest from protecting Stiles. They had gone deep into the forest, not wanting to be seen by anyone or overheard by the pack. Stiles had gotten much, much better with his fire, burning Jackson’s Burberry scarf, which had made him freeze the metal wolf in place for the night.

Talia had tried to explain that it was his fault for wearing the scarf to their training. Jackson didn’t see it that way. Stiles was allowed to damage his body, but attacking his wardrobe was just a low blow. The only decent thing he received from his parents was the steady supply of clothing in his size. If it wasn’t his size, he could easily make it fit him. They still hadn’t come to visit him, though. And he still hadn’t shown his colors to anyone, except Stiles.

Jackson knew Talia wanted to see his colors while they were sparring. He had spent too many years keeping control of his magic to let that happen. If he could fight without anyone ever seeing his colors, he could survive and live a long life. If he gave into his anger or fear, he would be outed as the rare breed he was and he would be hunted for the rest of his life. Eventually, he would just give up on running and let the hunters kill him, making his breed extinct again.

“What’s wrong?” Cora asked quietly, having smelled the sadness on him.

“Just thinking about my parents,” Jackson answered, the bowl of popcorn disappearing. His phone lit up as Lydia finally got back to him. He stood up and left the living room, finding Talia in the kitchen. “I’m going out to a movie tonight,” he told her.

“I’ll drop you off and pick you up,” Talia said and Jackson nodded. It was better than Derek wanting to sit a row behind them.

“Thanks.” Jackson smiled and jogged upstairs to get ready.

\--

Derek was back home for Thanksgiving. Stiles had, thankfully, become less stressed about the assignments. Cora had settled, as well. Laura was working as a tutor for children struggling in English and Jackson was focusing mostly on his lacrosse practice. He wanted to make captain by the following year and he would be damned if his age was going to prevent something like that.

Jackson ran into the house, making his way to the kitchen for a drink. He hated the snow, but he loved the workout it gave him when he was running through it. He grabbed a sugar free sports drink from the fridge and turned around, jumping back when he found Derek standing there. The werewolf raised an eyebrow, running his eyes over Jackson’s outfit. He couldn’t help it if his workout clothes were also designer brands.

“Problem, Hale?” Jackson asked as he shook the drink and opened it, taking a mouthful.

“How’s school?” Derek asked and stepped back.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he answered. “The lowest grade I got was a B minus on a report, but that was because the teacher was a moron. Everyone knows about _Hamlet_.” He shook his head. He stepped past Derek, freezing when he felt Derek’s nose on the nape of his neck. He growled and spun around, pinning Derek to the breakfast counter by the throat. “I’ve also gotten stronger.”

“I see that. But your temper still rules you,” Derek said and shoved Jackson back.

“I’ve got a better handle on mine than you do on yours,” Jackson snapped and left the kitchen. In the bedroom, he shivered.

\--

During Christmas break, Jackson sat in the living room with a mug of peppermint tea. He stared out a frosted window that was covered with decorations, watching as the snow fell softly. The fire was raging happily and the others were talking. Jackson had sat away from them, not wanting to be part of the festivities, but wanting to feel part of the family. His parents had sent their presents to him, which were under the tree. The next day was Christmas and Jackson knew he would spend that alone in the bedroom.

An eruption of laughter had Jackson tearing his eyes from the snow to the group. Stiles was trying to see which movie character he was without taking off the headband. Jackson smiled for a moment. It dropped when Derek’s eyes slid over to him and he went back to looking out the window, sipping his tea.

A tingle ran over his body and he and Stiles looked at the tree, seeing more presents appearing. They glanced at each other, both knowing the gifts were from Vincent and his family. Jackson smiled at him and turned his eyes back to the window. He stayed there for the rest of the night, even as Peter hauled Stiles off to bed. Even as Derek tried to do the same thing with him.

Jackson sipped his warm tea. It was barely half-finished and he wanted to enjoy it, since he knew he wouldn’t be seeing Vincent the upcoming summer. That bad news had already been broken to him, as Vincent had an air lion to work with. The only one of its kind, as well.

“You gonna stay up all night and wait for Santa?” Derek asked as Jackson refused to move from the windowsill.

Jackson’s eyes widened and he stood up, throwing the last of his tea in Derek’s face. Derek blinked as Jackson stepped past him and left the living room, going upstairs. He paused outside the bedroom, hearing Peter speaking softly with Stiles. Peter was almost like a second father to Stiles and Jackson didn’t understand why he couldn’t have that kind of relationship with Derek. Perhaps it had something to do with Peter not treating Stiles like a child. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Jackson wanted nothing to do with Derek. He didn’t want an older brother or another father figure.

Standing there, hand raised to open the door, Jackson stared at the wood. He wasn’t going to ruin whatever bonding moment Peter and Stiles were having, so he stepped back and went back downstairs. Instead of going to the living room, he went out the front door. He walked onto the two feet of snow, not setting a single flake out of place. A breeze swept by and he shivered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

His eyes flew open and he sank into the snow when he heard someone join him outside. He could smell peppermint and knew Derek was back there. He tensed as he felt a hot hand on the nape of his neck. Jackson knew he stank of sadness and he wished he didn’t, as he knew everyone would assume he was thinking of his parents. While David and Diana had come to mind, they barely stayed longer than a thought or two.

Glancing at Derek from the corner of his eye, Jackson quickly looked down. The werewolf was staring out into the trees and Jackson wished he could say what was on his mind. He wished he could say that he did actually like the werewolf and had been terrified for him, two years ago. He knew he would never say that, as he barely wanted to admit that to himself. If he said the words aloud, that meant they were true and that meant Derek could be ripped from him.

“I’m going for a run,” Jackson said and waved a hand over his body. His clothing changed to his running gear and Derek stared at him. “What?”

“When did you learn how to change your clothes like that?”

“Last year,” Jackson answered and pushed Derek’s hand away. “You joining me or can I get two minutes alone to think?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

Jackson was grateful as the wind kicked up. He shivered.

\--

January saw Derek back at college and Jackson finally able to practice his magic with Stiles. The metal wolf growled as Jackson kicked up the snow, knowing he couldn’t see through it. A blizzard came through, hanging over their area and Stiles sighed, metal spikes going up everywhere. One nicked the back of Jackson’s thigh and the snow fell harder, making sure the metal wolf was completely blinded.

Rolling his hands, Jackson’s eyes flashed silver for a second and Stiles called out as the snowflakes began cutting him. He raised a box of metal around himself and Jackson’s eyes flashed again. The wind kicked up and crushed the metal, holding Stiles in place. To make sure he wasn’t going anywhere, the snow snaked up around the metal and secured it further, crushing it more.

A sword of ice in his hand, Jackson sliced the top of the box off and crouched on the sharp edge. “Yield?” he asked and Stiles pouted, but nodded. Jackson stepped off the edge and ripped open the box. “That was clever.”

Stiles huffed and Jackson calmed the falling snow. “This isn’t fair. If we fought at a volcano, I’d kick your butt,” he said and Jackson nodded.

“Maybe we can visit one of the Hawaiian islands next year,” he suggested, the sword disappearing from his hand. “I need to learn how to make my ice strong enough to survive that kind of heat.”

“You two are _not_ dueling in a volcano,” Talia said, shaking the snow from her hair. She looked at Jackson. “You look pale, Jackson.”

Jackson looked at his hands and found that they were paler than normal. He shrugged and nodded. “Puberty,” he said and grinned when Talia groaned. “It affects shifters differently from humans and werewolves.”

“Our bodies change to suit what our mate’s needs,” Stiles explained as he stood beside Jackson. “It would seem that Jackson’s mate likes them pale.”

Jackson blushed and playfully shoved at Stiles. He was going to assume that his mate was an ice wolf, as they definitely liked their mates pale, nearly as white as fresh snow. He rolled his shoulders and frowned. “Oh, great. This is going to be painful.”

“Your body is changing, as well?” Talia asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles said. “By the time he’s fifteen, he’ll be fully grown and visually appealing to his mate. I think you’ve met them already, considering you’re starting now.” He tilted his head, looking Jackson over.

Jackson winced as his shoulders moved, broadening. “Okay, I think I need the bed.” He hissed as his spine stretched and closed his eyes as his knees popped and cracked.

Stiles picked Jackson up and carried him back to the house. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered as he entered the house. “It’ll be over soon.”

Jackson groaned as he was placed on the bed. He cried out breathlessly as his ribs moved, situating better for his new frame. He gasped for air as his lungs strengthened and expanded. His neck cracked and twisted. His jaw was reshaping and his teeth were moving to their new positions. His cheeks molded to their new position, his skull cracking as it was forced to move. His muscles and tendons stretched and shifted, filling and settling. He didn’t bother to choke back the screams of agony from that.

“It’ll be the worst today,” Stiles explained to Talia and Peter, who were staring at Jackson, watching as his body stiffened and laxed. “It’ll happen on and off for the next few months, though.” He glanced at Jackson, a pained gleam in his eyes. “His magic will also be out of his control. So, I suggest you leave.”

As though to prove a point, an explosion of ice filled the room, icicles forming on the ceiling and snow falling. Jackson groaned as the door closed. He could feel heat spreading through his body, muscles and tendons still stretching and shifting. The worst was a scream from his hamstrings snapping and knitting back together. His eyes widened as his throat tightened and relaxed, his vocal cords changing around to get the right timbre for his mate.

Some part of him was mindful of a cool cloth sweeping across his forehead. He knew that Stiles was still in the room. Being a shifter, Stiles could handle any of Jackson’s magic, except maybe the chill of it. His eyes swirled and Stiles gazed at them, smiling slightly.

“They’re beautiful, man. I really wish you weren’t hunted as bad as you are. I’d love to see those daily,” he said quietly and Jackson gasped, his spine arching as the muscles back there tensed, cramped, relaxed and slithered around. His eyes remained closed after that.

The clothing he wore was torn around his shift. Stiles winced as the Nike outfit became nothing more than expensive rags. With the material out of the way, he flinched as he saw Jackson’s muscles quivering and reforming. Jackson screamed as his ribs shifted again, hand gripping Stiles’ arms with an iron grip. His shoulders and clavicles cracked as they moved around, tears falling from the corners of his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, trying not to breathe.

Storm clouds gathered in the room and Stiles flinched as lightning cracked, burning the carpet. Before he could worry about the fire, rain fell and smothered the flames. Just as quickly as it started, the clouds vanished and Jackson’s feet twisted as the ankles and the bones in his toes reshaped. Stiles winced as Jackson continued to change and shift and mold into the best version of himself for his mate.

By the fifth hour of his puberty, Jackson became lucid enough to realize that Stiles was still by his side. He licked chapped lips and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Stiles smiled and wiped down his face. Before Jackson could thank his brother for the help, his elbows twisted painfully and another scream was ripped from his throat.

At some stage during the past five hours, every werewolf had checked up on him. He didn’t remember any of it, but he just knew that at some stage all of them had seen his body morphing. Peter had brought food up for the pair of them, but the idea of eating, while his stomach was shrinking and expanding had Jackson dry reaching. Stiles had eaten his dinner outside of the room.

His claws grew and shredded the bedcovers as his lower back and hips contorted, snapping back and forth, reshaping. The muscles were too tight and then too loose, shrinking and expanding with his bones. The pain moved down to his thighs, the femurs stretching and shrinking, until they found the correct length for the rest of his body for the moment.

By the eleventh hour, Jackson was panting on his bed. His throat had been screamed raw from the reshaping. He could hear Talia downstairs, talking to someone. Stiles had passed out beside the bed, somehow sleeping through the screams and the sounds of muscle, flesh, tendons and bones stretching, snapping and morphing.

“He’s fine, Derek,” Talia was saying and Jackson frowned, which felt strange on his face. The muscles were different. “It’s just puberty for a shifter. His body is shaping to the image his mate wants.”

Jackson turned his head slightly and a hoarse scream sounded as it began reshaping again. Stiles woke up with a snort, blinking at Jackson. He smiled sadly and wiped his face down again. Jackson had no idea how pathetic he looked, but he knew he would be forever grateful to Stiles for everything he was doing. He grabbed Stiles’ hand, wanting to thank him, but eventually, he was well enough to pass out.

\--

Opening his eyes, Jackson found he was wrapped around Stiles, hugging him tightly. Raising his head, he realized that the room was freezing. He gently detangled himself from the smaller wolf and sat on the edge of the bed. The others were awake, having breakfast downstairs. Jackson rolled his stiff shoulders and went to the bathroom.

After relieving his bladder, he washed his hands and looked at his reflection. He screamed and jumped back at the stranger staring back at him. Stiles ran into the room, probably expecting Jackson to be in pain on the floor. He cleared his throat and threw a towel at Jackson, who wrapped it around his hips. He looked down his body, eyes wide as he saw he had abs. His skin was a lot paler than he remembered it being.

“Who wants a boy _this_ pretty?” Jackson demanded as the werewolves crowded at the door. He winced as his shoulders tensed and resettled. That wasn’t his voice, either. He didn’t think it would be that deep.

“Look at those abs!” Cora said, her eyes on Jackson’s naked torso.

“Remember, he’s fourteen,” Talia said and covered Cora’s eyes.

Jackson looked at his hands and then back at his reflection. His lips were fuller and he had freckles! His eyes were still the human shade of blue he kept them, which he was grateful about. At least his mate liked the color he picked for his eyes. His hair was darker, more brown than blond. His entire face had a pouty expression about it, as though someone thought it would be cute.

“It is going to take some serious magic to make me appear normal,” he said and frowned at his voice. That really didn’t sound right.

“Why would you want to hide _any_ of that?” Cora asked, lowering her mother’s hand to stare at Jackson.

“Because on Friday, I looked nothing like this!” Jackson snapped at her with a glare. “I can’t go to school looking and sounding like this.”

“How will your mate recognize you?” Laura asked and tilted her head. “Will you just be visually appealing to them or something?”

“Something like that. Shifters are very vain creatures,” Stiles answered with a shrug. “We mate based on looks because we want to have the prettiest offspring.”

“Great,” Jackson said and winced. He doubted he’d ever get used to that voice coming from him. “My mate is a shifter…that definitely prefers pretty boys. Look at me! I’m practically a twink!”

Peter frowned. “How do you know that term?”

Jackson tilted his head. “I think the bigger question is how do _you_ know that term?”

“That aside,” Stiles said. “You aren’t practically a twink, Jacks. You _are_ a twink.”

“You little!” Jackson growled when Stiles laughed and hid behind Peter. He took a step towards his brother, but gasped and collapsed as pain shot up his ankles. He gritted his teeth as they cracked. “How long is this meant to last?”

“Until you’re fifteen,” Stiles answered, looking around Peter.

Jackson’s shoulders hunched as his back rippled. His shoulders straightened painfully and he cried out. He dropped to the ground, resting on the cool tiles. “Ow,” he muttered and closed his eyes. He still had six months of that until his fifteenth birthday. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

\--

Using a magic he had never used before was the easy part, Jackson quickly realized. Going to school when growing pains could hit at any moment was the worst part. He would be talking to Lydia and Danny and suddenly, he was on the ground, screaming as his body stretched and shifted. Stiles was always by his side in an instant, trying to make the pain less somehow. Jackson wasn’t sure how he could make it up to his pack brother, but knew he would find a way.

The worst one was when his teeth changed entirely. Instead of just shifting around, they decided to regrow. Sitting in chemistry, he had to run from the room as blood dribbled from his mouth. In the bathroom, he spat his teeth into the sink, eyes wide with horror. For the next two weeks, his mouth was extremely sensitive and he was on a mush diet and whatever else he could drink through a straw.

The second worst one was when his ribs reshaped again, as he was leaving school. Derek’s school year ended in March and he was more than happy to pick up the shifters. He had held Jackson as he muffled his screams into his shoulder, while his ribs cracked and shifted to their final resting place. The worst part of that was that Jackson was actually clutching Derek, holding him close and tight. The car ride to the house had been difficult, as Jackson couldn’t find a comfortable position to sit in and eventually just laid out in the backseat.

The next night, his hips reshaped and he dragged his dinner off the table as he fell from the chair. He wasn’t able to walk for the next day, which worked well as his spine decided to realign to his new ribs and hips. As Stiles was trying to sleep, Jackson had screamed into his pillow, which was wet from his tears of pain. It was around three in the morning when he finally passed out.

Monday morning, his shoulders gave out just as he was washing his face. That was the first time Derek saw him without his magic keeping him young looking. The werewolf had stared at him, eyes wide as he writhed on the floor, trying to alleviate some of the pain. His clavicles followed soon after his shoulders. Stiles, who had grown used to Jackson being in pain at that point, had just closed the door to the bathroom and showered. By the time he finished, Jackson was laying on the tiles, staring at the ceiling.

Stiles left the bathroom and Derek entered, crouching beside Jackson and running his eyes over him. “Your mate has pretty tastes,” he said quietly and Jackson couldn’t muster the energy to glare at him, while keeping his magic up for his eyes. “Can you stand?”

“No,” Jackson answered coarsely and closed his eyes. “That means moving my shoulders.” He frowned and opened his eyes as the pain from his shoulders and clavicles vanished. He stared at Derek, who shrugged at him.

“You’re not missing school because of puberty,” he said and pulled Jackson to his feet.

“Dick,” Jackson muttered and stretched. He scratched his lower back and glared at Derek. “What?”

“Your voice is deeper than I thought it’d be.” Derek smirked and Jackson shook his head, going to the bedroom and dressing for the day.

Pulling up his magic, Jackson left the bedroom and jogged downstairs for breakfast. He ate the eggs and toast quickly, before he grabbed his schoolbag and made sure he had his homework. He gave Stiles a hug when he saw that it was completed. That boy did so much for him.

Tuesday was his thighs and knees, just as they got back to the house. He didn’t bother to fight Derek as he was pulled from the car and carried up the stairs and laid on the bed. The quickest way to get over the pain was to just sleep and then eat when he woke up.

Wednesday at lunch saw his hands, wrists and elbows changing. Derek had picked him up from school and Jackson glared at Stiles. “You said on and off until I was fifteen! This has been happening non-stop for almost a week!”

“You don’t want to know why,” Stiles said as he opened the door to a Mustang. “Trust me, you’ll just try to deny it and it’ll get even messier.”

Jackson growled as he sat down and Derek reached across to grab his seatbelt and buckled it. He closed his eyes as Derek drove away from the school, just wanting to sleep through the pain again. He winced as the road was anything but smooth and kept forcing his arms to move. He waited until Derek opened the door for him and leaned across him to unbuckle the seatbelt. He inhaled deeply when Derek knocked his hand and frowned at the scent. He shook his head and slipped out of the car.

Thursday had his ankles and feet giving out from under him during second period of the day. He tried his hardest not to scream as his ankles cracked. The math teacher raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Stiles picked him up and took him out of the room. Thankfully, Derek was unavailable and Peter drove out to pick him up. He was laid out on the backseat and let the screams come freely. He had no idea why his feet and ankles were so sensitive and he really didn’t want to think about it.

That night, Danny called and demanded to know what was happening to him. Jackson, honestly, was surprised it took him that long to call. He spun the usual spiel about it being growing pains and it wasn’t a lie, either. Danny didn’t sound completely convinced, but that wasn’t a problem. If all else failed, Jackson knew he could alter the memories of everyone in the school that saw him collapse like a newborn calf.

Just as he hung up, Derek entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “What was it today?”

“Ankles and feet,” Jackson answered and closed his eyes. “Tomorrow should be my internal organs. After that, it should be random muscles and tendons rearranging themselves.”

“I don’t envy shifters,” Derek said and Jackson opened his eyes, chuckling.

“I’d take being a werewolf any day over this,” Jackson said and winced as he moved his legs, trying to take some of the pressure off his feet. “What did you have to deal with? Your hormones making you shift?”

“Pretty much.” Derek glanced at him and smiled. “Seeing a pretty person definitely made it more difficult.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jackson huffed as he cracked his shoulders. “I’m a twink. When I find my mate, I’m going to kick their ass for making me look like this.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”

“I have _freckles_! What kind of sick person wants something that’s flawed, when they could have them perfect?” Jackson shook his head. He frowned when Derek caught his jaw and looked at his face.

“They’re cute. It’ll give your mate something to count while you’re asleep.”

“Get out of here, Hale. Let me suffer in peace.” Jackson laid down, his legs wide and feet hanging over the sides of the bed. “Could you send your mom in?” He looked up when Derek stared at his abdomen. “What?”

“They gave you nice hips.”

Jackson threw a pillow at the werewolf. “Go perv on some other underage kid, would ya?”

“I’ll send Mom in.” Derek dropped the pillow on Jackson’s chest and left the bedroom.

A minute later, Talia entered and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong, Jackson?”

“I need you to call the school. I won’t be in tomorrow.” Talia raised an eyebrow. “Internal organs are next. You know how bloody that gets.”

“All right. You rest. I’ll wake you for dinner, if you can move by then.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“Thanks.”

Jackson fell asleep quickly after that. He was half-woken to someone gently poking his shoulder. He moaned and swatted the hand away, rolling over and curling into a ball to conserve some warmth. The hand was on his shoulder and he finally opened his eyes, bringing his magic up and looked at the jerk that was rousing him from a nice dream. Stiles smiled and waved for him to get up.

“Lasagna tonight,” Stiles said, practically jumping with joy.

Jackson raised an eyebrow, but sat up and stretched. He knew he needed to eat in order to keep his energy up for the hell that his life was about to become in the next twenty-four hours. He followed Stiles out of the room and to the dining table. He collapsed into a chair. He felt his stomach cramp as he looked at the lasagna on his plate.

Swallowing, Jackson picked up his fork and then bolted into the kitchen, throwing up into the sink. He groaned as his stomach cramped again and more blood came up. He could hear Talia remarking that it started earlier than she thought. She wasn’t the only one surprised. This was Derek’s first time experiencing his organs changing to fit into his body and was being restrained by Peter as he smelled the blood.

Falling to his knees, Jackson panted as his kidneys were the next to move around. There was a sharp stabbing pain from his liver. His intestines felt like snakes as they moved. He hung his head, letting the blood trickle from his mouth and onto his Dolce & Gabbana jeans. He muttered a curse and closed his eyes, not wanting to see them being ruined. He loved the way they hugged his hips and ass as a fully grown wolf-shifter. He would need to get more.

Stiles came into the kitchen and washed out the sink, while Laura helped Jackson to his feet. He stumbled as they headed for the stairs, trying to maintain some kind of dignity, despite throwing up blood and crying as his organs moved around. He knew that Stiles was following with the ice that would be packed against his torso to ease some of the pain. It worked a little, forcing Jackson to focus on keeping warm than the pain that was radiating from inside.

Before he was laid on his bed, his jeans were removed. Laura knew how much he loved those jeans and would probably scrub them until they were perfect again. She laid him down gently, while Stiles packed dishtowels filled with ice around him. Jackson began shivering immediately, but managed to swallow back the next lot of blood. He glanced at them and gave a weak smile, before he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

When he woke up, he found he was holding someone’s hand and smiled at Stiles. He gently woke the boy up and sent him to his own bed, while he sat up. He had dried blood on his arms and chest from his fitful rest and would need to shower. He grabbed the dishtowels and took them to the kitchen, emptying the ice into the sink and putting the clothes in for wash. His eyes widened when he heard a heartbeat behind him and quickly brought up his magic.

Talia stood there, smiling sleepily at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was kicked in the gut by a mule,” Jackson answered and stretched. Everything felt normal, for the moment. He knew his weekend would be ruined by his muscles and tendons. “I hate puberty,” he muttered as they headed upstairs.

Talia chuckled quietly. “Everyone does, Jackson. But I can see why you hate yours. Are you going to shower?”

“Damn right. I look and smell disgusting.” Jackson shivered and stepped into the bathroom. He stepped back and looked at Talia. “Who’s out patrolling?”

“Derek and Cora.” Talia smiled. “Shower and get some more sleep. You’re in for more pain.”

Jackson groaned. “Don’t remind me,” he mumbled and stepped into the bathroom. He showered quickly, grateful to smell like himself instead of his blood.

With a towel around his hips, Jackson returned to the bedroom. He could hear Derek and Cora laughing outside, clearly enjoying their time together. The laughter stopped abruptly and Jackson frowned, going to the window. His eyes searched the darkness and he found nothing out of the ordinary. Deciding that they just went from giggly to serious, Jackson dressed with a wave of his hand. He groaned when he saw the state of the bedcovers and replaced them with another wave of his hand.

The next morning, Jackson groaned and rolled over as a hot hand landed on his shoulder. He had barely slept the previous night, the cramps keeping him up. Once his organs settled down, his lungs began constricting and expanding. Thankfully, he didn’t have much breath to scream the pain of them pressing against his breastplate and ribs. The rest of the day would be his muscles and tendons shifting, slithering and settling.

“Let him sleep, Derek,” Talia said gently and the hand was removed from his shoulder. “He’s in for more pain.”

Derek left the room and Jackson shivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Now, a word to our sponsors.
> 
> Reddy_no_1: No need to apologize. I've basically been Americanized. I know what you mean. I so wanted to reveal what Jackson was in this chapter, but then it just didn't happen. It's coming soon, I promise! Thank you so much for your comment and I hope this chapter kept you entertained.
> 
> Guest1701: Yes, yes I am. I am a giant tease. But that's the beauty of being a writer. Teasing the ever-loving crap out of my faithful readers. I promise things will be explained later on, especially in the next chapter. Answers will definitely be given then. Thanks for the comment and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! (My Christmas was awesome. So. Much. Food!)
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: Yes, I do love the touchy-feely stuff, especially when Jackson is so dead set against it. Thank you so much for your comment. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I tried to put more touchy-feely stuff in it, but...sometimes it just doesn't happen.
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	5. Age 15

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

**Age 15**

The week before his birthday, Jackson finally felt himself relax. For the last two days, he’d had no growing pains. There were no more shifts in his body. Everything seemed to fit perfectly, at long last. He created a full length mirror and checked out his body, tilting his head. He had light, almost invisible freckles dotting the rest of his body. He still didn’t understand why his mate would want him to have those. While he had abs, they weren’t nearly as developed as they could be. He was mostly lean muscle.

He looked at his face and tilted his head, still unable to believe it was him staring back. The smattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose seemed to laugh at him. How was he going to explain those when his friends saw him again? He supposed he could use the excuse that he wore makeup to cover them. The only part of the old him that gazed back was the eyes. Even their shape had changed. Jackson wouldn’t lie, he definitely liked how he looked, but he couldn’t understand why his mate would want someone so pretty.

Waving a hand over his body, Jackson was dressed and the mirror vanished from the room. He hummed as he jogged downstairs to have breakfast. He tilted his head when he saw a fruit parfait waiting for him. As far as he knew, he hadn’t created it and he was alone in the kitchen. Shrugging, he sat down at the breakfast counter and ate it, licking his lips, which still felt strange to him.

Laura entered the kitchen, stopping for a moment as Jackson looked at her and smiled. “It’s still weird to see you looking like that,” she said and opened the fridge, grabbing the milk. “How does it feel?”

Jackson shrugged and finished his breakfast. “I need to test my magic, but it feels…” He trailed off and frowned, thinking about the magic that was buzzing through his body. He could feel the ice moving through his veins, along with a tingle that came from the air he controlled. “Somehow complete,” he finished.

Laura nodded and smiled, pouring cornflakes into a bowl. “You look more comfortable, too.”

Jackson smirked and glanced at the dish his breakfast was in. It vanished. “If my mate wants me this pretty, I’m gonna flaunt it.”

Laura snorted and shook her head as Jackson slipped off the stool. He left the house and made his way through the trees, knowing that Derek would wake and follow him soon. His eyes narrowed slightly, almost clicking into high definition. Once he was far enough away from the house, he dropped his magic and let his eyes swirl, bringing in snow clouds. When he had a foot of snow to work with, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

His fingers met his thumbs and the snow peaked towards his hands. Opening his eyes, he smirked and held his hands out. The snow conformed and piercing the trees that surrounded him. He pulled the spikes back and turned a full circle, the snow sheering through the trees. He winced as they creaked and crashed to the forest floor, tilting his head as he gazed at them. He would need to plant more trees to make up for their loss.

Bringing up his magic, he spun around and held his hands out to the sides. He glared ahead of him and felt the wind picking up, blowing through the trees. His glare deepened as he focused on compacting the air, moving it around the fallen trees to lift them up. He bent his elbows and felt the air moving with him. He could hear the fallen trees bending to his will around the air.

Panting, Jackson glared at the trees that were barely upright. He figured it was time to work on his air magic more than his snow. Setting his jaw, he growled and brought his forearms together in front of him. The trees straightened and drove into the ground, remaining upright. A tired smile on his face, Jackson looked at them. He had targets he could practice on when Derek decided to sleep in during the summer break.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Jackson straightened his shoulders. His left hand moved in circles, the snow curling up to meet it. He gripped the peak and it solidified in his hand, the end remaining loose. He flicked his wrist and the whip cracked. He moved over the snow, not leaving a footprint behind as a sword of ice was created in his right hand. He ran and jumped through his targets, the whip shredding bark and the sword slicing through the branches. He landed in the center, grinning as the branches fell seconds after him.

Jackson froze when he heard a second heartbeat and spun around, finding Stiles there. The metal wolf grinned as he stepped onto the snow, sinking into it. He tilted his head as Jackson approached him, staring at his feet. He shook his head and the grin returned to his young face.

“So you’re as light as a snowflake, then?” Stiles asked and Jackson huffed and the foot of snow dispersed.

“I’m guessing so,” Jackson answered with a shrug. “There’s almost nothing out there for my breed. Even the dragons aren’t sure what I can do.”

Stiles nodded and his eyes turned to the trees that Jackson had killed to use as targets. “Was that necessary?”

“Unfortunately,” Jackson replied and lowered his eyes. “I plan on planting more, so I can make up for it. I can’t use you for target practice all the time. My magic is fully realized, while yours isn’t.”

Stiles grinned wickedly. “For now,” he said and tilted his head proudly. “Derek is still sleeping,” he added quietly, his eyes flashing bright gold for a moment.

Jackson’s eyes widened and he jumped back, watching the spikes of gold driving out of the ground. “You know I have an unfair advantage, being able to change the weather,” he said.

Stiles tilted his head, gazing up at Jackson. “Okay, fire and ice only, then.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow, but smiled and nodded. The whip of snow disappeared from his hand and he backed away, giving Stiles some room. Stiles inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a moment. When he opened them, they burned bright ruby and fire streamed from his hands, towards Jackson, who raised a wall of ice easily. He gave it a slight kick and the ice stretched from the bottom, forming under Stiles’ feet. The fire stopped as the boy steadied his balance, using his fire to melt the ice at his feet.

Spinning around, Jackson raised his left hand. Balls of ice formed and made the fireballs behind him implode. He turned back to Stiles and grinned. The metal wolf was definitely getting better with his fire, as it seemed he could control it without seeing it. His eyes widened when the ground under his feet heated and jumped up, creating icicles that he kicked towards Stiles, who rolled out of their way.

“You’re using air!” Stiles said as Jackson hovered.

“Sorry,” he said and dropped to his feet lightly. “It was force of habit.”

Jackson’s mouth fell open as Stiles smirked at him, his eyes flipping between ruby and gold instead of swirling. He stepped back, using his ice to cool the molten metal that was erupting from the ground. He shot an icicle at Stiles, who raised a geyser of molten metal to evaporate it. Jackson narrowed his eyes and created a wall of ice, hardening it until it sparkled like a diamond. His hands strained as he moved to make it longer and curved around, encasing Stiles within the clear walls.

Stiles frowned as he was surrounded by ice, which only deepened when his molten metal sizzled and cooled immediately on the surface of it. He jumped up to the top and crouched on the edge of the circle around him, gazing down at Jackson. He grinned and Jackson kicked the metal spike coming up behind him, bending it away from him. Stiles’ eyes widened as Jackson smirked at him and threw a blue fireball at him. Jackson twisted to the side and wrapped the fireball around with air and flung it back at Stiles.

“You…” Stiles shook his head as he caught the fireball and let it float above his palm. “That was awesome! Do it again.”

Jackson caught the fireball between his hands, keeping it suspended with air and threw it back to Stiles. He smiled, which froze when he heard someone else walking towards them. He cleared his throat and Stiles nodded, stepping off the ice he was still crouching on. Peter joined them and raised an eyebrow as the two shifters stared at him. Swirling red-gold and blue eyes tried to look innocent.

“What did you break?”

“Nothing!” Jackson and Stiles answered together, frowning as Peter’s eyebrow went up further.

“I take it you’re feeling better, Jackson,” Peter said and Jackson nodded. “That’s good. Derek’s looking for you. If you don’t want him to know about this training ground, I suggest you return to the house.”

Jackson nodded and gave Stiles a hug, jogging back to the house. Derek was on the porch and glanced at him, running his eyes over his body. “I’m not hurt,” he said as he stopped. Derek just looked at him. “If you keep staring, Hale, I’m going to believe you like me.”

With a smirk at the glare on Derek’s face, Jackson entered the house. He went upstairs and showered quickly. Once he was dried and dressed, he went downstairs and found the study. He grabbed the Hale’s copy of _How to Kill a Mockingbird_ and went to the living room, dropping onto the sofa. While Derek was on summer break, he wouldn’t get long to practice his magic. Still, he did enjoy reading and it wasn’t like he had anything else to do, without Vincent around.

\--

The first time Danny saw him without his magic, Jackson had to laugh at the way Danny stared. He figured he could keep the magic up, but he couldn’t be bothered with it. He was damn gorgeous and he wanted the entire high school to know. Danny had touched his abdomen, eyes widening. Jackson had hugged his friend, who had come out as gay two years ago. Jackson didn’t care who his best friend slept with, as long as they didn’t hurt him. The last thing the lacrosse team needed was their goaltender being distracted.

\--

The week before school started, Stiles came back to the house, confused and somewhat angry. He looked at Jackson and sighed softly, before he left the bedroom. Jackson sat up and followed him, wanting to know what had his brother upset. Stiles sat in the kitchen, staring at a can of soda. Jackson sat beside him, placing a hand on Stiles’ hot shoulder.

“You won’t believe it,” Stiles said and looked at Jackson. “Scott’s a werewolf.”

Jackson’s eyes widened and Talia came running into the kitchen. Her eyes were wide and frightened. “Scott? Your best friend Scott?” she asked, her eyes flashing red for a second.

“Yeah. He was bitten a week ago and…he doesn’t remember much about it and when I checked his memories, there wasn’t much there. It was too dark for him to see anything,” Stiles explained, a slight pout on his mouth. “You didn’t bite him, did you?”

Talia shook her head. “I would ask his permission first,” she said and ran her hand over Stiles’ hair, while Jackson held his hand. “Did you tell him you knew about him being a werewolf?”

Stiles shook his head. “I didn’t know how to explain it to him. He doesn’t even believe in this sort of thing. If he knew about wolf-shifters, he’d probably go insane.”

Jackson bit his lower lip and glanced at Talia. “I can ask him, while you guys try to pick up his scent in the woods. If there’s a rogue alpha, we need to stop them.”

“I know, but Stiles is probably the best to talk to Scott. They’re friends and you look nothing like you did on the last day of school.” Talia smiled as Jackson huffed. “Your nose is more sensitive, as well.”

Jackson nodded and squeezed Stiles’ hand, before he slipped off the stool and went to the front door. He stretched his arms above his head and went to the porch. He shifted into his wolf form and shook his fur, settling it. The last time he used that form was when he needed to heal from arrows. He trotted down the stairs and sniffed the air, trying to find Scott’s scent. It wasn’t that strong on Stiles, but it was enough.

Looking over his shoulder, Jackson saw Talia exit the house. Her black fur was beautiful and her eyes flashed red for a moment. Jackson tilted his head as she stood beside him. Unlike him and Stiles, Talia couldn’t speak in her animal form. He could read her mind and drop ideas into it, but she was much more animal than human as a wolf.

Talia watched him and he began walking away from the house. Once they were swallowed by the trees, he broke into a run. He could hear her panting behind him as he led her through the forest, following Scott’s scent. He came to a sudden stop as he caught the scent of blood ahead. He was going to assume that’s where Scott was attacked, as he couldn’t think of any other reason for Scott’s scent to be there, along with blood.

They approached the area cautiously, ears alert to every sound. Jackson sniffed the blood on the leaflitter and pawed at it, catching the wet dog smell that accompanied werewolves he wasn’t accustomed to. He followed it to the east, freezing with a paw in the air. He tilted his head and his eyes flashed silver, the net trap triggering. He continued to follow the scent for another few hundred yards and froze again.

Looking back at Talia, he huffed. She looked up and joined him, sniffing at the area. She raised her head, eyes flashing red for a moment. The scent he caught wasn’t one he was accustomed to, but he had caught it before around the town. He never paid attention to it, as he didn’t think it was important. However, the scent of the alpha, that strange scent and Derek’s somehow being there made Jackson worried.

Talia growled as she pawed at the leaflitter and unearthed one of Derek’s shirts. Jackson tilted his head at the language that came from the Hale alpha. She glared at him and Jackson sat down, staring at her with his amber eyes. He hadn’t done anything wrong, as far as he knew. She snapped at him and Jackson backed away, tail between his legs and ears flattened. She was blaming him for something, saying it was all his fault.

Jackson yelped as Talia attacked him. He pulled his head back, trying to protect his ears and gasped as his throat was caught. Her bite was unrelenting and Jackson tried to get out of it without hurting her. He doubted that she would attack him because one of Derek’s shirts ended up near the area that an alpha attacked a random high school kid. He liked to believe that, anyway. He knew he wasn’t the best houseguest, but that didn’t warrant a beatdown in wolf form.

He whined and tried to placate Talia, but she simply snarled and bit at his fur. Jackson felt his fear spike as he realized that she wasn’t looking for his submission. She wanted him dead, which just had him looking back at the shirt. She had been fine, until she sniffed at that. The alpha or whoever else was there must have done something to it. His yelp was loud as Talia grabbed his scruff and threw him down.

A nasty bite to his shoulder had him howling with pain. He could feel his blood flooding his fur and running down his leg as he stood and tried to move away. His heart thudded in his chest as he looked at Talia, seeing his blood drying around her mouth.

Laura ran to him, standing in front of him. She frowned. “Mom?” she asked.

Talia snarled and jumped for Laura’s throat. Jackson growled and caught her around the throat, pinning her to the ground. He could handle her attacking him, but he would be damned if he was going to watch her attack her daughter. Also, he liked Laura and didn’t want her scared of her mother. Talia struggled under his grip, but he held her firmly and his eyes flicked to Laura.

_The shirt. There’s something on it._ Laura frowned and sniffed out what he was talking about. She grabbed the shirt and frowned, but balled it up and left the area. Jackson huffed through his nose and kept the struggling Talia down, waiting for whatever was in her system to finally disappear. He winced as she bit his leg and pulled it away from her mouth.

Jackson wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he knew hours had slipped by. The sun was beginning to set when he finally heard footsteps approaching him. Stiles and Peter stepped up to them and Stiles smiled, which froze when Talia snarled and twisted, trying to snap at him. Jackson was glad to know it wasn’t just him, but he couldn’t think of a reason for Talia to attack her child.

Stiles knelt by them and pulled a small packet from his pocket. He opened it and blew the powder towards him and Talia. Jackson pulled back and sneezed a few times, before licking his nose and glaring at Stiles. His attention was turned to Talia as she became human again. Peter stepped forward and wrapped a jacket around her. Talia blinked and stared at Jackson, her eyes wide.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Jackson,” she said as she hugged him. Jackson yelped as his shoulder was moved. “I’m sorry.”

Jackson nodded and sat down, watching as Peter and Stiles helped Talia to her feet, fixing the jacket around her. He stood and limped after them, praying that the bite on his shoulder didn’t scar. He’d never been attacked by a werewolf before. When he thought about it, he’d never been attacked by a shifter before, either. He hoped that the werewolf thing was a one-time deal.

\--

Half-waking, Jackson blinked the blurriness from his eyes for a moment, listening. He heard two heartbeats in the room and a warmth at his back. Looking over his shoulder, Jackson’s eyes widened and he fell out of bed, hurrying away until his back slammed into the wall, heart racing as he stared at the male in his bed. Stiles woke and turned on a lamp, while Derek opened his eyes and stretched.

“You done?” Derek asked and Jackson narrowed his eyes, trying to fight off the heat that was threatening to settle on his cheeks.

“Why are you in my bed?” Jackson demanded and tried to stand. He winced as his right shoulder protested the movement. He held it and felt the scab there. The muscles still felt as though they weren’t fully connected to each other, either.

Derek was in front of him in an instant, gently helping him up. “You were shivering in your sleep, even with Stiles beside you. He almost burned himself from the inside out trying to warm you,” he explained and Jackson flinched as Derek’s hand ghosted over his injured shoulder.

“What are you doing back from college?”

Derek led Jackson back to the bed. “I heard your howl,” he answered with a shrug.

Jackson groaned as he laid down. “Why is this taking forever to heal?”

“An alpha werewolf did it to you. An alpha’s wounds will always take longer to heal.” Derek pulled the covers over Jackson. “Any other questions?”

“Why was your shirt at the scene of Scott’s bite from an alpha?”

Stiles turned off the lamp and settled down, while Derek settled himself atop the covers. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Now, get some sleep. You still have a lot of healing to do.”

\--

It took two days for a wound from an alpha to heal properly. On the third day, Jackson rolled his shoulder as he went down for breakfast, the new muscles a little tight. Talia lowered her eyes and Jackson sighed. He was getting tired of her acting like that around him. It was his fault for taking so long to figure out why she was attacking him.

“Don’t worry about it, Talia. I’ve had worse from hunters,” he said and sat at the breakfast counter, creating a fruit parfait. He tensed as he felt someone pull down the back of his shirt. He spun around and glared at Derek. “It’s fine! Fuck! Does everyone in this house have a hearing problem?”

“Jackson,” Talia snapped, her eyes wide. “No cursing,” she added gently.

Derek stared at Jackson blankly, before spinning him around on the stool and checking his shoulder. Jackson snarled and spun around again, slipping to his feet and kicking out Derek’s knee. The werewolf hissed as it was dislocated and Jackson’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to do that. He only wanted to bend it, not cause so much pain.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said as Derek’s knee healed.

“You’re a fully realized shifter now, Jackson,” Talia said and Jackson was glad to see she was finally treating him like normal. “You’re not used to the strength in your body.”

“Well, now that I’m aware of it,” Jackson crouched down and looked into Derek’s eyes. They really were a pretty color. “If you touch me again without my permission, I’ll crush your trachea again. And then I’ll do it again and again, until I grow bored of it. Trust me when I say that watching you suffer is something I’ll never tire of.” He smirked coldly and tapped Derek’s cheek, standing.

Grabbing his parfait, Jackson went into the living room and turned on the TV with a flick of his hand. He watched the news as he ate his breakfast, listening to Talia scold Derek. He frowned and focused his ears, unsure why she would be doing that. Derek had only been trying to check on him, like a good protector.

“You can’t force him, Derek,” Talia whispered and Jackson made sure his next spoonful was loud. “And remember that he’s only fifteen.”

“I know,” Derek muttered and Jackson knew he had his eyes lowered. “I just don’t understand why he’s still pushing me away. I’ve tried being nice. He doesn’t even trust me.”

“Maybe if you respected his boundaries, he might.”

Jackson lowered his eyes as he finished his breakfast and the bowl disappeared from his hands. He ran his tongue along his lower lip, thinking about all the times Derek had invaded his personal space. His parents hadn’t been that forceful with him, as he had put his boundaries up quickly. The less likely it was for someone to get close to him, the less likely he would be hurt when they were snatched from him.

The little touches that Derek gave him were annoying. Jackson hated that he missed them, especially during the wintertime. He couldn’t deny that Derek grew from a surly teen into a handsome young man. The stubble he refused to shave was a nice touch and Jackson frowned, shaking his head. It was the last of his hormones going through, which made him think Derek was attractive enough to be a mate. He hated puberty.

\--

Fall approached and with it came chilling rains. Jackson made co-captain of the lacrosse team and accepted the hug from Stiles and Danny at his new position. The youngest ever co-captain in the history of Beacon Hills High, which was something he was proud about. Of course, his victory was short-lived as Scott decided to use his werewolf abilities to play the game better. In only a few short weeks, Jackson was sharing the co-captain spot with him. He wasn’t going to lie, he was bitter about it.

On one particularly stormy day, Jackson was staring out the window in chemistry. He watched the way the rain danced in the strong winds, how it swirled and played, before it finally hit the ground. There was something almost hypnotic about it, which had his attention fully. Perhaps that was why he didn’t realize that Stiles was staring at him and trying to get his attention without alerting Mister Harris to it.

Blinking, Jackson came back to himself and faced forward. He frowned when he felt someone watching him and found Stiles staring at him. He frowned and Stiles pointed to his mouth. Touching his lips, Jackson looked at the blood and his eyes widened. He grabbed a tissue from his bag and spat the blood out. His mouth didn’t hurt, so he had no idea where the blood came from.

Before he could even think to question it, he cried out as it felt like someone had bitten him. The muscle connecting neck to shoulder throbbed painfully and he pulled down his shirt, scared when he saw scars there. His eyes went to Stiles, who stared at them. Mister Harris was trying to get their attention, but Jackson just grabbed his bag, shoving his books into it. He needed to speak with Laura about that.

As he stood up, he, Stiles and Scott looked at the windows as there was a howl. It wasn’t from Talia, it was from Laura. They glanced at each other and ran from the room. She was calling for their aid and they would do that. Jackson and Stiles weren’t going to let one of the Hale pack fight alone. Mister Harris tried to stop them, but the three of them ignored him and met up with Cora in the parking lot.

“One of them is injured,” Jackson said and they threw their bags into Cora’s car, running for the woods as Laura howled again. They found Laura and Derek not too far in from the edge and Jackson’s eyes widened. He ran to Derek, who was sitting with his back to a tree, holding the bleeding muscle that connected neck to shoulder. He slipped to his knees, sliding the last few inches to Derek and moved his hand. “What happened?”

“That,” Laura said and the others looked at the alpha that was standing back.

“Keep it busy,” Jackson snapped and created a ball of white-blue light in his palm. It spread over his hand and he placed it over the bite on Derek’s neck. The werewolf hissed and Jackson glared at him. “Stop complaining!”

Derek winced as the magic worked and Jackson was grateful that he wasn’t immune to that. He frowned as he saw the alpha’s venom coming out of the wounds, while the others roared and fought with it. The alpha howled with pain as Stiles’ molten metal burned through a foot. It didn’t hang around after that and the others didn’t bother to chase it, knowing it would find them soon enough.

Jackson lowered his hand when the wound was fully healed. The venom was being washed away by the rain and he sat back, covering his face with his hands. He sniffed and stood up, glaring down at Derek when he reached to take hold of his wrist.

“You need to rest,” he said and pushed his fringe from his eyes. “Don’t take on an alpha again, you idiot!”

Talia and Peter had left town to speak with other packs, leaving Laura in charge. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the alpha chose to attack the day after they left. Shaking his head, Jackson turned and headed back to school, wanting a distraction from what almost happened. He refused to think about Derek not being around. He might hate and threaten him, but he would be damned if anyone except him was going to kill that werewolf.

\--

Laura had asked them not to mention the alpha attacking and Stiles and Jackson agreed, though they noticed the scars on Jackson’s neck. He shrugged, not wanting anyone to make the connection that they were in the exact spot where Derek was bitten. After he was rested, Derek had hung around until Talia and Peter returned, before he went back to college.

As the scars would prove that something happened, Jackson took to wearing shirts with high collars. As it was part of his usual fall and winter attire, Talia didn’t mention it. She did want to know why he, Stiles and Cora had walked out of school one day and returned soaking wet. That was the one thing they couldn’t lie about, so Jackson said his hormones had acted up and when he came to, he was in the carpark. Stiles jumped in, saying that he followed, to make sure Jackson didn’t hurt himself while he was in a daze and Cora admitted to seeing them and following, out of curiosity.

Talia didn’t believe a word from them, but she let it go as they all bonded over that one lie. Jackson was the only one out of the three that could tell a convincing lie and he figured it was time to teach them. With the alpha injured by Stiles, it wouldn’t be long before it wanted his blood. And there was the fact that none of the major families seemed to be missing an alpha. That didn’t bode well for them. It hadn’t bitten anyone since Scott, who was taken under Talia’s wing, which meant learning that wolf-shifters existed.

“So what are wolf-shifters?” Scott asked one day, coming over to work on their homework.

“Basically magical wolves,” Jackson answered, typing up his report for English.

“And there’s different breeds?”

Jackson looked over at Scott, he was glancing between him and Stiles. “Yeah, there’s different breeds within all races of shifters. Earth, water, fire…air shifters were hunted to extinction. Most dragon-shifters were hunted to extinction, too. There’s only three frost dragons in the entire world.”

“Dragons are real?” Scott asked, eyes wide.

Stiles laughed. “They’re real.”

“Are you two the same breed? Is that why the Hale pack is protecting you?”

Jackson liked that Scott had a curious mind, but he hated that he knew which questions to ask. He hadn’t told most of the Hale pack what breed he was. He certainly wasn’t going to tell a werewolf that could turn on him in an instant to save his own skin. He glanced at Stiles and shook his head.

“I’m a metal wolf,” Stiles said with a smile and let his magic drop. Scott’s eyes widened as he stared at Stiles’ eyes, not even realizing that the boy’s hair was reflecting the same colors. “Jackson is an ice wolf.”

Jackson returned to his homework when Scott’s head turned towards him, clearly wanting to see his colors. He ignored every question after that. He frowned as he received an email and tried not to sigh when he saw that it was from Derek. He really needed to know how that werewolf got all of his information. He enjoyed being private, but every time Derek returned to college, he seemed to know that Jackson had changed his number and his email address. He would just blame Laura and Cora. It was easier that way.

\--

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, there still hadn’t been another attack from the alpha. Jackson rubbed his neck as he gazed out the window of the shared bedroom. Stiles joined him a minute later, both of them getting the sinking feeling of dread. There would be another attack and it would be soon. Stiles placed a hand on his shoulder and Jackson nodded.

Sighing, Jackson followed Stiles down to the dining room. He took a seat and frowned when Peter stared at him, his eyes dropping to the connecting muscle. Jackson rested his elbow on the table, using his hand to cover the scars. He knew Peter had seen them and knew he was waiting until Talia was in the dining room to bring them up. However, when Peter’s eyes flicked to Derek, he turned his attention to Stiles, asking him about school.

Talia entered the room and placed the turkey in the center of the table. As she sat down, Stiles winced and rolled his shoulders. Jackson’s eyes widened and he stared at the metal wolf. He recognized that pain and jumped to his feet, picking Stiles up. He took the metal wolf to the bedroom and laid him on the bed, watching as his face contorted with pain.

“Welcome to puberty, Stiles,” Jackson said and heard Stiles’ ribs crack and move. A scream ripped from the metal wolf’s mouth and Jackson placed a glowing hand on his arm, letting his healing soothe all the pain. “It’s the least I can do for my brother.”

“You had to suffer, though,” Stiles said as he raised his shirt. He groaned as he saw his ribs moving under the skin.

“Healers are rare, too,” Jackson said with a shrug. “I strongly suggest that you miss dinner tonight. It won’t be pretty, from either end.”

Stiles groaned and laid back, staring up at the ceiling. “What about when your magical painkiller wears off?”

“I can administer more.” Jackson grinned. “It should last at least twelve hours, though.” He leaned forward and kissed Stiles’ forehead, pulling back slightly to let his eyes smile into the swirling ruby-gold. “Just let me know. Okay?”

“Yep.” Stiles settled down and closed his eyes, deciding to just sleep through the worst of it.

Jackson stood and left the room, gnawing on his lower lip. He stopped partway down the hallway and looked back, worried that the magical painkiller wouldn’t last as long as he said. The last thing he wanted was Stiles feeling that kind of pain. No one deserved to go through that.

As he turned to go back into the room and administer more painkillers, he looked over his shoulder as Derek came down the hallway. “How is he?”

“Doped up, for the moment,” Jackson answered. “I’m not sure how long it’ll last, though. I haven’t really done something like that before.”

Derek stood beside him and looked at the door. “You took the pain away. That sounds like a win.”

“Yeah,” Jackson breathed, turning and slapping Derek’s shoulder. “Puberty sucks. He’s resting for now and I’m hungry.”

“Cover the scars, first,” Derek said and Jackson frowned. He had forgotten about those. He created a blue plaid shirt and pulled it on. “Good.”

Jackson shook his head and glanced back at the door, before he followed Derek down the stairs.

\--

For the next three months, Jackson learned a lot about his healing magic. When Stiles’ growing pains were around his hips, spine and shoulder, he needed to apply a stronger dose as Stiles felt those pains the worst. When it came to the internal organs, he had to keep the magic going into the body. It left him completely worn out, but Stiles was able to sleep through some of the pain.

The worst part was when it happened at school. Getting Stiles somewhere safe and secluded wasn’t easy. Scott usually kept lookout while Jackson administered the painkiller. The longer he did that, the faster it wore off. Stiles was developing a strong tolerance against it and Jackson knew it would get to the point that he would have to feed him a steady stream of the magic, especially as his sixteenth birthday was coming up. If it was anything like Jackson, there would be a full week of pain and his body reacting differently.

As the months wore on, Jackson realized that he needed direct contact with the area that was causing pain. That didn’t end well for him one day when Stiles’ knees were aching. After applying the magical painkiller in a stall in the bathroom, he had stumbled out to find Danny standing there. Jackson had wiped his forehead and tried to look nonchalant, while Danny glanced into the stall and saw Stiles buckling his jeans. Danny just nodded and held his hands up, deciding he didn’t want to know what brothers did in bathroom stalls.

That night, thanks to spring break being on, Derek had overheard Danny asking him about the bathroom stall. Derek had spun around and glared at him, which had Jackson scared that he was about to be attacked because he was helping his brother. Jackson quickly ended the call and Derek’s eyes sparkled blue.

“You and Stiles did _what_ in a bathroom stall?” Derek asked, voice low and quite threatening.

“His knees were shifting, so he had to drop his jeans so I could apply the painkiller,” Jackson said. Upstairs, he could hear Peter asking Stiles the exact same question. “Jesus Christ! Even if we were banging, whose business is it?”

“Not helping, Jacks!” Stiles shouted from upstairs over Peter’s growl.

“Don’t need to hear it, either,” Laura called from the living room. “What happens in a high school bathroom stall, stays in a high school bathroom stall.”

“From what I heard, Jackson looked very tussled and Stiles _very_ relieved,” Cora said and laughed when two growls sounded through the house. “Calm down, boys. You all know Stiles is going through puberty and Jackson is stopping the pain.”

Derek approached Jackson quickly, who flinched and ducked his head. He frowned and opened his eyes when he felt Derek’s hand on the nape of his neck. He tentatively looked up and found Derek standing in front of him, eyes lowered. There was an air of shame and guilt around the werewolf and Jackson raised an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong with him.

“I’m sorry,” Derek murmured and gave Jackson’s neck a squeeze, before he released him and joined Laura in the living room. He shivered.

Jackson blinked and stared after him, shocked at what he heard. As far as he knew, Derek apologized for nothing. He wasn’t going to question it, though. That could only lead to more trouble and he got the feeling Peter would sit in on every healing session, just to make sure Jackson didn’t defile his ward. Jackson frowned and shook his head, wondering why everyone thought he’d be the one doing the defiling. That was just something else he wouldn’t question.

Stiles hissed and Jackson ran upstairs. He didn’t care if Peter hung around for the healing sessions, he would see there was nothing to worry about. He smiled as his hands glowed and applied them to Stiles’ hips. He did what any healing brother would do for his pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Now, a word to the sponsors.
> 
> Reddy_no_1: I think this answers your question about Stiles. It is a terrible way to go through puberty, but it would just be boring if they had their hormones settling. I wanted to make shifters completely different, being that magic is involved with them. Just a word of warning, there will be a lot of Greek coming up in recent chapters. As for the remark Stiles made, nothing bad...or too bad. Just more of knowing that Jackson would deny everything. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Guest1701: Thanks for the comment! I promise you, Jackson's breed will come up very soon in the story. And yes, I wanted the chapter to be intense. I just wanted to make them suffer a little, because everyone loves when people suffer. I hope you enjoyed this story and I hope to hear from you again.
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: Oddly enough, that's exactly what I thought, too! But then I stupidly remembered that Derek is immune to Jackson's magic, which was upsetting, because I could just see him being suspended from the ceiling or something. It would've been so awesome. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Bernard: Hello and welcome! Thank you for the comment, though not sure if black hearts are good, but I don't know if the comments allow colors. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hope to hear from you again.
> 
> To those that have left kudos, thanks!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	6. Age 16

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

**Age 16**

Jackson sat on the foot of his bed, rubbing his neck as he gazed warily at Stiles. He had spent the last seven hours feeding magical painkillers into the metal wolf’s body. He finally managed to build up some, which allowed Stiles to fall asleep. Stiles had said that his puberty would end when he reached the age of sixteen, but he was still going through the shifts. He hadn’t changed as much as Jackson did, but the shifts were still painful.

Going to the bathroom, Jackson splashed cold water over his face and sighed softly. They were nearing summer break and Jackson wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle feeding the healing magic into Stiles. He was terrified that if he continued to do it, his healing would have no effect on him. The last thing he needed was Stiles being injured and unable to help him. He went back to the bedroom and found Peter sitting on the edge of the bed, lightly brushing his fingers over Stiles’ forehead.

Peter glanced at him and smirked. “You look like shit.”

Jackson just nodded. He was too tired and sore to argue the fact. He knew he had dark circles under his eyes and he barely had the energy to keep his magic up. Eventually, Peter would see his colors and he didn’t want that. There was something about the older wolf that he didn’t trust. He couldn’t say for certain what it was, as he cared deeply about Stiles, but there was something in his personality that made Jackson want to grit his teeth and rip his heart out.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to care about anyone,” Peter said and Jackson mustered the energy to glare at him. “Don’t give me that, pup. Since you got here, you’ve been shoving all of us away.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” Jackson stated and rubbed his neck again.

Peter nodded at him and didn’t argue the point. None of them knew what Jackson had been through and he was grateful for that. He didn’t need their pity. He was happy to live in his own private hell of never allowing others too close or being too close with anyone. He made an exception for Stiles, as he could defend himself. Once he was over his puberty, he would be a fully realized metal wolf. Those wolves were difficult to take down.

“Get some sleep,” Peter said and turned his eyes back to Stiles. “You’ve got school in the morning.”

“I’m good,” Jackson said and rubbed his eyes.

“His screams will wake you, if you’re needed.”

Jackson sighed and nodded, pulling back the covers of the bed. He kicked his shoes off and slipped under, too tired to undress. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, getting accustomed to the third heartbeat in the room. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep.

As Peter had said, Jackson jerked awake when Stiles’ screams finally reached his mind. Throwing back the covers, Jackson was at the bedside in less than a second, hands glowing as he placed them over Stiles’ ribs. The screams died off and Stiles began breathing normally, staring at the ceiling as the tears ran their course. Jackson panted, swaying where he stood, but forced himself to keep up with the healing.

Gritting his teeth, Jackson doubled the magic and pulled back after a minute, collapsing to the floor and panting. Stiles sat up and stared down at him, watching as he shivered and tried to regain some lost energy. He ran from the bedroom and returned a few minutes with a bowl of fruit. He sat behind Jackson, wrapping his warm arms around the shivering wolf, trying to raise his core temperature.

Jackson’s head fell back onto Stiles’ shoulder as he tried to stay awake. He swallowed thickly and gazed at the fruit in his hands, barely seeing it and not feeling it at all. All he could feel were Stiles’ hands, one stroking his sweaty hair and the other massaging a shoulder. The lips on the back of his neck were wonderful and Jackson seemed to snap back to himself.

Stiles shouldn’t be the one comforting him, but Jackson couldn’t deny that it felt good. He had failed the simplest of tasks, which was to keep Stiles happy. Instead, he had collapsed and it was left to a wolf, going through puberty to make him feel better. He dropped his head and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” Stiles murmured. “You’ve been pulling on drained reserves for the last two months. You don’t leave my side and when you do, it’s because your body has forced it.”

One of Stiles’ arms wrapped around his shoulders and Jackson opened his eyes, watching as two tears fell from his eyes. They landed like mercury on the pale skin of the metal wolf. He swallowed again and pressed his hand to the arm, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He sniffed and ate the fruit, feeling a little better. He felt good enough to bring up his magic and turned around on his knees, staring into Stiles’ warm brown eyes.

Stiles’ eyes dropped to the scars on his neck and his fingers brushed over them. Jackson turned his head and stood up, helping Stiles to his feet. While Stiles went for a shower, Jackson checked his phone. It was past midday, which meant that he had missed school again. He had no doubt that Cora would bring his and Stiles’ homework back and he managed to get six hours of sleep.

“Hey.”

Jackson looked at the door and found Derek there, leaning against the frame. He lowered his eyes, staring at the dark screen of his phone. “Hey.”

For the last few months, the attack that Stiles and Jackson had felt at Thanksgiving hadn’t come. They all knew the alpha was still out there, but there had been no more attacks. If it attacked again, Jackson knew he would be useless. He could barely keep his eyes one color and that magic was slipping nearly every five minutes. He had to focus on it, which wasn’t something he liked.

“Stiles is fine, for the moment,” Jackson said and dropped his phone to the bedside chest.

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” Derek asked, pushing off the frame and sitting on Jackson’s bed.

“I don’t know.” Jackson was too tired to make the lie believable.

“Wanna try the truth now?”

“I’m exhausted, Hale. I don’t know how long I can continue to keep him free of pain.” Jackson squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to cry in front of Derek. “I lived through it. I know how painful it is.”

“It isn’t your job to take care of him,” Derek said softly.

Jackson glared at him, making sure his magic was up. “Would you let Cora or Laura suffer?” he demanded and Derek lowered his eyes. “That’s what I thought. We might not be related by blood, but that doesn’t make him any less my brother.”

“You need to think about yourself, as well.” Derek frowned and Jackson knew what he was thinking. Jackson not stopping to think about the consequences of helping someone else? He hadn’t done anything to have others believe he would put his life on the line for someone else. “I think Stiles can handle some pain.”

Jackson sighed and shook his head. “You have no idea what it feels like to have your entire body fight against you, shift against you. To be torn asunder and stitched back together, only to relive it every couple of days.” He winced at the memory.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Derek said. “But you’re not responsible for his pain.”

Jackson stared at Derek, his eyes hard. “Giving up is the easy option.”

“Hmm,” Derek hummed and smirked at Jackson. “I think this is good for you. You actually give a shit about someone else.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a _fucking_ asshole,” Jackson hissed as his glare deepened.

“Jackson, if I have to wash your mouth out with soap, I will,” Talia threatened from the kitchen.

Jackson blinked and looked at the door. “Sorry,” he said as Stiles entered the room. “How’s the pain?”

“I don’t know what you did, but it’s gone. Feels like it’ll be gone for a while.”

Jackson smiled and nodded, while Derek stood and left the bedroom. Jackson shivered, ignoring the curious glance from Stiles. He couldn’t explain it, even if he tried.

\--

One May night, Jackson was sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed. He had managed to heal the pain enough for Stiles to sleep through the rest of it. His own eyes were drooping and he just wanted to sleep, but also knew that at any moment, Stiles could wake in pain. It was his internal organs that were shifting and Jackson remembered how horrible that was. As long as he could lessen it, he would be happy.

Gripping his fringe, Jackson let his head drop. He straightened when Stiles groaned softly and his face contorted with pain. Straddling the metal wolf’s legs, Jackson let his hands glow. One was placed on the abdomen and the other on the chest. He narrowed his eyes, focused entirely on the healing. The pain was slowly disappearing from Stiles’ face and Jackson bit his lower lip, trying to pull more energy.

Jackson cried out as something sliced his back, shoving him to the side. His Burberry shirt was completely ruined and he finally heard the others shouting. Cora was injured and the rogue alpha was in the bedroom. Jackson stared at it as it snarled at Stiles, like it was there specifically for him.

Despite the fear coursing through his veins, Jackson found a reserve of magic that was untapped and used the air to shove the alpha back. He stood on the bed, standing over Stiles as he glared at the alpha. “You will not touch him,” he snapped, eyes swirling as two spikes of ice pierced the shoulders of the alpha.

The animal roared and broke the ice, jumping out the window. Jackson fell to his knees and raised his head as Derek and Talia ran into the room. Both stared at him, eyes wide as they finally saw his colors. Derek took a step back and Jackson knew he would be the first to demand answers for why they were housing him. He would have the reaction that Jackson feared.

Turning from them as Stiles screamed, Jackson tried to pull on the untapped reserve he found to protect Stiles. That reserve was dry and he tried to find something somewhere within himself to get his healing up. Stiles opened his eyes and gripped the covers. All Jackson could do was stare at him and mutter how sorry he was, before he collapsed to the side and passed out.

\--

Jackson blinked his eyes open when he felt someone petting his hair. Stiles smiled at him and slipped off the bed, then out of the room. Jackson frowned and sat up, wincing as his back was strangely tight. His eyes landed on Derek, sitting on the foot of his bed, knees apart, hands between them and head bowed. At some sound, he looked up and his face was blank.

“You’re a snow wolf,” he said without emotion.

Jackson said nothing. What could he say? He could deny it, but Derek had seen his colors the night before. Lying about it would just anger the werewolf and Jackson wasn’t in the mood to deal with anger. Apathy was better than that, as far as he was concerned.

“You’re not gonna deny it?”

Jackson raised his eyes and dropped his magic, letting his eyes swirl between vivid azure and silver. Derek stared at him, at his eyes. One word kept moving through his head and Jackson wasn’t sure why he could hear it. The Hale pack was immune to his telepathy most of the time. He could force his way into their heads, if he wanted, but he didn’t like doing that.

_Beautiful._ That was the only thought going through Derek’s head and Jackson brought his magic up. Derek blinked and his face was reset, as though he was no longer in a trance. The word vanished from his head and Jackson looked down. He was still waiting for Derek to tell him that he was no longer welcomed there and that having a protector was a death sentence for anyone.

Jackson’s eyes snapped up when Derek’s hand slid over his cheek to rest on the nape of his neck. The hazel green eyes of the werewolf flashed blue for a moment. Derek’s eyes and face were unreadable and Jackson caught his eyes dropping to the mouth of the werewolf, before he forced them back to the eyes.

“I can protect you better now,” Derek whispered and Jackson frowned, feeling the steel behind the words.

In an instant, Derek pulled back and left the room. Jackson shivered.

\--

By the time summer rolled around, Stiles was over his puberty. Jackson watched as he checked himself out in a full length mirror, just as Jackson had. He grinned as Stiles poked his abdomen, which was nicely toned. He laughed as Stiles pinched his cheeks and then cupped his ass. Stiles just glared at him and Jackson shrugged, just grateful that the puberty had stopped. He was finally able to get his reserves up.

Stiles turned to him, his eyes swirling. Jackson knew what was coming, but he shook his head, a small smile on his face. He didn’t have the energy to keep his magic up, let alone spar with Stiles. He wanted to know what the metal wolf was capable of, being a fully realized shifter, but he had to take a step back and focus on healing himself.

The entire Hale pack heard Derek call Jackson a snow wolf and the fact he didn’t deny it. Suddenly, all of them knew what he was and Cora had bugged him repeatedly until he showed her his colors. Her eyes had widened with wonder and Jackson wondered if the colors really were that beautiful, as Cora had repeated the same word in her mind. At one point, she even breathed it.

His eyes were a reminder of why he was an adopted Whittemore, so he didn’t let them show, still. His control was too good for that to happen. He was going to make sure no one ever knew about him, so he could protect those he cared about. At one stage, it had only been David and Diana Whittemore that he cared about enough to protect. Now, he had the Hale pack, especially Derek, Lydia and Danny that he needed to protect. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he would let any harm befall them because of his eyes.

As though thinking of the devil made him appear, Derek walked past the open bedroom door, shirtless. Jackson tilted his head, enjoying the view until he noticed something on the back. Frowning, he got off the bed and stared at Derek’s back. Over the triskelion tattoo were four silver scars, exactly where Jackson had received them from the alpha that tried to attack Stiles. There was a nasty looking scar on his shoulder, from where Talia had bitten Jackson.

Feeling his eyes on him, Derek paused and turned around. “Something wrong?”

Jackson blinked and shook his head. “Forgot what I was out here for,” he lied easily and went back to the bedroom. He stood beside Stiles and looked at the bite scar on his neck. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” Stiles answered and grinned at Jackson’s reflection. “Do you know anything about shifters?”

Jackson glared at Stiles. “There’s almost no lore around for my breed, except that I’m highly prized because my magic capacity rivals a dragon.”

Stiles winced and nodded. “Sorry. I meant, didn’t your parents tell you anything about having a mate?”

“I was _eight_ when I was shipped out here. The topic of having a mate didn’t really come up in that time.”

Stiles frowned, but shook his head. “Whenever a shifter finds their mate, they receive the scars from any injuries, as a reminder of what they fought for. You and Derek carry each other’s scars, because he’s your mate. He’s the one that likes twinks.”

Jackson shoved Stiles, his mind still whirling around. He highly doubted that Derek was his mate. He barely tolerated the werewolf. Derek had no concept of personal space and enjoyed invading Jackson’s at any given opportunity. Jackson had fought against it, violently. Still, when he thought about how well Derek’s hand fitted on the nape of his neck, like it was always meant to be there, he couldn’t deny some facts.

Derek was a capable fighter and he would know how to defend Jackson, if he needed it. He was gentle and tender with his touches, which was strange to Jackson. He didn’t feel anything when Derek touched him, though. Wasn’t he meant to feel sparks and some kind of connection?

Turning his eyes back to Stiles, Jackson shook his head. “I don’t think so. We’re completely incompatible. He’s a werewolf, I’m a wolf-shifter.”

The rest of the pack was beginning to wake and Stiles glanced at the door. _You could always bite him. Make him a wolf-shifter._ Jackson’s eyes widened as he stared at Stiles. Offering the bite to a werewolf was one of the greatest insults, if Jackson remembered his lore correctly. Werewolves were perfectly happy how they were. He wasn’t going to insult an entire pack by offering one a bite.

_I…_ Jackson shook his head and sighed. _I’m not talking about this. He’s not even my mate. I think there’s a crossed wire somewhere. Protector and protected. That’s all it is._ Jackson left the bedroom, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. He knew that Stiles only had good intentions, but there was a boundary that shouldn’t be crossed. His parents were paying the Hales to protect him, not for him to mate with their son. It was completely insane.

\--

If Jackson thought that Stiles would drop the subject, he was sorely mistaken. If they were alone in a room, Stiles would walk in and shove Jackson into Derek, like some bad rom-com. Derek always caught him, as though he knew what Stiles was doing. Jackson would just glare at where Stiles had been, jerking himself from Derek’s hold.

The shoving was bad enough. When Stiles started throwing water on him, to make his clothes mold to his body was when Jackson started having serious fantasies about hurting his pack brother. The worst part was when he did it to Derek, who would just peel his shirt off and ask Stiles if he was enjoying the view. Jackson had to actively force himself not to stare at the gorgeous torso on display.

Going to bed at night was becoming a chore. Stiles would always ask, his voice loud enough to wake the dead in another hemisphere if he had kissed Derek goodnight. Jackson would just stare at him, unable to believe he was pushing the topic so much. He just wanted to sew Stiles’ mouth shut and get some relief from the knowing smirks and winks that were thrown his way. It got to the point that Jackson waited until Stiles was asleep, before he climbed the stairs and went to bed.

One summer day, Jackson was sitting on the porch railing, enjoying _The Catcher in the Rye_ , while Stiles and Peter did some sparring. Derek was sitting on a chair, _The Scarlet Letter_ in his hands, glancing up to watch Stiles’ mastery over fire. That mastery came in the form of a stray fireball heading for Derek. A wall of ice was raised and stopped the fire in its tracks. The ice vanished and Jackson turned the page of the book

“Aww, how sweet!” Stiles called and Jackson growled. “Look at how you protect you—”

Jackson threw the book down and slipped off the railing. “That’s it!” he snapped at Stiles. “We’re sparring.”

Stiles tilted his head as Jackson stepped off the porch. He looked up when clouds blocked out the sun. “Hey, that’s not fair,” he said as the snow fell softly around him.

“Neither is the torture you’ve put me through for the last two months,” Jackson’s eyes flashed silver and the snow fell faster.

Within minutes, there was a blizzard outside the Hale house. Jackson could easily see Stiles, trying to swat the snow and find him. As though remembering that he could control fire, Stiles used that to create a blanket of fire and stop the snow from falling. Jackson tilted his head and used the heat of the flames to create more clouds and bring in more snow.

Stiles growled and Jackson smirked. The snow hardened and Stiles moved around as the small flakes began slicing his body. Jackson’s eyes flashed blue and lightning dispersed the blanket of fire, letting more snow fall. Jackson moved atop the snow and he could see Stiles’ ears twitching, waiting for the crunch of the snow to give away his location. For a moment, Jackson felt sorry for Stiles and realized he was cheating by using the snow to his advantage.

Then he remembered the hell Stiles had put him through. Behind the metal wolf, Jackson kicked out his knee and pulled his long arms behind his back, holding them with one hand. The other was waved over Stiles’ face, becoming encased in ice. There was only holes so he could breathe. He bound Stiles’ wrists and ankles with ice, connecting them together. He watched as Stiles moved around, hogtied. The snow stopped falling and Peter gazed at Jackson, raising an eyebrow.

Jackson walked up to the porch and picked up the book, sitting on the railing and continuing to read. He smirked when Peter tried to break the ice. It would melt, eventually.

\--

Talia came home one night, having tracked down the alpha. She was unable to take it out, as it was being protected by something. She assumed it was shifter magic and Jackson tilted his head. He had been leaning over the breakfast counter, flipping through a magazine about something. Derek had followed Talia into the kitchen and froze. Jackson frowned when he felt the eyes run over his back and stop at his ass.

Straightening, Jackson turned and stared at Derek. “Problem, Hale?” Derek shook his head and sat at the counter, while Talia made coffee. “What kind of magic?” he asked as he went back to the magazine.

Talia sighed softly. “I don’t know. I don’t have much experience with shifter magic, aside from you and Stiles,” she said as she turned on the kettle and rested against the counter.

“I heard my name,” Stiles said as he entered the kitchen. “Hey, Jacks.”

Jackson growled and kept his eyes on the magazine, not caring that he was staring at an ad for some kind of cologne. He pushed off the counter, wanting to leave the room. The less time he spent around Stiles, the better everyone was. His eyes widened when he felt searing heat behind and jumped onto the breakfast counter, crouching and facing Stiles, eyes narrowed. Stiles smirked, eyes going bright ruby.

A flurry of snow was created in Jackson’s hand, hovering over his palm as he glared at Stiles. The flurry elongated and became a whip, which Jackson cracked and then wrapped around Stiles’ neck. The metal wolf growled, his hand glowing red as he melted the ice. The water trickled down Stiles’ throat as he heated his core and then smirked, before a ball of molten metal appeared in his hand.

“No defensive magic in the house,” Talia warned.

Jackson and Stiles looked at her, tilting their heads. Jackson startled when he felt a hand on his knee and found Derek there, picking him off the counter and placing his feet on the floor. Stiles laughed and Jackson’s eyes flashed silver. He shoved Derek to the side and tackled the still laughing Stiles. Jackson groaned as Stiles flipped him over his body.

_Just admit it,_ Stiles said as they stood, staring at the other. _You two make a cute couple._ Jackson growled, knowing he just insulted Stiles’ mother. He just insulted someone’s deceased mother. His eyes widened as Stiles’ eyes glazed over. Jackson bit his lower lip and looked down as the life came back to Stiles’ eyes. Jackson felt the snap and raised his arm in time to block a hard punch.

Jackson struggled to breathe when Stiles’ palm slammed against his sternum. He stared at the metal wolf, surprised that he looked happy about something. He honestly thought that Stiles would still be pissed at him for insulting his mother. Jackson knew he would never let that go.

“I’ll just beat it into you, then,” Stiles said and Jackson’s eyes widened.

“You’re _still_ on about that?” he demanded and Stiles grinned. “Bring it on.”

Talia and Derek enjoyed their coffee around the fighting shifters. Neither were bothered when Stiles was thrown against the breakfast counter they sat at, nor where they bothered when Jackson was thrown onto it. They simply moved their mugs and leaned back, Derek flipping through the magazine Jackson was reading at one stage. The sounds of blows landing filled the kitchen and Talia sighed softly.

“Thank god you never had a brother,” she said to Derek, as Jackson and Stiles rolled around on the floor behind them. “I don’t think this house would’ve survived.”

Jackson kicked Stiles off him, smirking when the plaster of the kitchen ceiling cracked. He rolled to the side and Stiles fell to the floor, groaning softly. Jackson was about to turn when he felt a hand on the nape of his neck. The fingers were pressing hard and they were hot, really hot. He cried out breathlessly as he could feel the fingertips burning his skin.

Growling, Jackson rolled backwards and pinned Stiles down. “No magic,” he hissed. He groaned as Stiles kicked him off and his back met the frame for the kitchen entrance. It was surprisingly sturdy.

Stiles got to his feet, both of them panting as they glared at the other. Talia turned around in the stool and glanced at the pair of shifters. She sighed and shook her head, unable to believe that they thought fighting was the best way to convey a message.

“That’s enough,” she said, Jackson and Stiles straightening at her tone. “What is this all about?”

Jackson glanced at Stiles. “Nothing,” they said and smiled.

Talia cocked an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. So, you two decided to beat the hell out of each other and ruin a perfectly good ceiling because of nothing?”

Jackson raised his eyes, seeing an almost perfect imprint of Stiles in the plaster. He huffed and it was fixed. “There,” he said with a shrug.

“Thank you. Now tell me what caused this.” Talia finished her coffee and looked between the shifters.

“Well, you see—”

“Don’t make me hogtie and gag you again,” Jackson threatened, stepping closer to Stiles.

“I’m starting to think you enjoy that,” Stiles teased with a grin.

Jackson tilted his head and ran his eyes over Stiles. “Mm, maybe,” he said, smirking as Stiles blushed. It dropped from his face when Derek’s head snapped to the side, a glare in his eyes. “What?” he asked as he rubbed his cheek, where one of Stiles’ fists had landed.

Derek didn’t say anything and went back to looking at the magazine. Jackson sighed and worked his jaw. It almost felt like a slight dislocation, but knew it was just bruised. He huffed at Stiles and grabbed his magazine, sighing when Stiles shoved him into Derek and ran off, laughing like some evil genius. Jackson straightened and closed his eyes. Someday, he was going to kill that cackling lunatic.

Opening his eyes, he looked at Talia. “I can take a look at where the alpha is hiding. If there is shifter magic, I can detect what type it is,” he offered and Talia raised an eyebrow.

“Jackson, I can’t let you go charging towards danger like that,” she said softly.

Narrowing his eyes, Jackson said, “I want to kill something right now. I can’t kill Stiles because he’s a protected breed. But I can kill a rogue alpha and whatever shifter is working with it.”

“I’ll go with him,” Derek said as he stood.

Jackson rolled his eyes and forced a smile. “Joy,” he muttered.

\--

Standing outside a warehouse, Jackson cocked an eyebrow. Whoever had the rogue alpha seriously couldn’t think of a better place to hide out? The warehouse just screamed ‘Bad Guy HQ.’ The windows were blacked out, the gate was chained with a new padlock and there was a shimmer around the building, which was the shifter magic at work. It was just an extra security measure.

Jackson sniffed, taking in the different scents. He could hear someone screaming in pain, but they were in a basement. Ripping the chain off, Jackson opened the gate and walked up to the barrier. It was strange. He had been around every shifter known and knew what their scents were. The magic used was clearly shifter magic, but it wasn’t from a breed or species he was familiar with.

Derek stood beside him and touched the barrier, hissing as it crackled with electricity. Jackson winced and looked at his right hand, seeing the scar of the burn. He glared at Derek, but said nothing as he went back to looking at the barrier. He was expecting someone to hear the electricity and see what was happening. As he raised his hand to touch it, he froze.

_There are hunters that don’t kill._ Vincent had told him that once, when he was younger. He never understood what they meant, as he couldn’t think of a reason to hunt something if not to kill it. _They don’t kill shifters. They collect them._ His eyes widened and he stepped back, remembering the way the alpha had wanted Stiles. Somehow, the hunters knew about him and were there to collect him.

“We have to go. _Now_.” Jackson grabbed Derek’s arm and pulled him away from the warehouse.

Derek didn’t argue and Jackson was grateful for that. They got in the car and sped back to the Hale house. Jackson couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. The alpha didn’t seem all that interested in destroying them and whatever made Talia give in to her anger was unusual. Vincent had warned him about The Collectors for years and he never thought on them. And because he was so tired when the alpha came for Stiles, Jackson knew The Collectors had heard about him. He would be next on their list and the Hale pack would be casualties.

The car came to a sudden stop and Derek frowned. Jackson glared at the person that was standing in the middle of the path through the forest. There was a smirk on the face as a gun was raised and fired at Derek. Jackson narrowed his eyes and the bullet went wide, missing the car entirely. The person’s smirk stayed in place as the gun was fired again and again, until the clip was empty. Each bullet missed the car and Jackson had to wonder why that person was even bothering with the gun.

Steeling his frayed nerves, Jackson unbuckled the seatbelt and opened the door. He silenced Derek with a look and slipped out, staring at the person. They tilted their head and grinned, almost psychotically as Jackson closed the door and stood in front of the car. Jackson inhaled and realized it was definitely a shifter hunter he was dealing with. They knew how to mask their scents so they couldn’t be tracked. The one thing they thought they had was a defense against his magic.

“Hello, wolf-shifter,” the person said and Jackson realized it was a woman. “You must be the snow wolf our alpha saw.” She chuckled.

Jackson tilted his head, blinking at her. He heard Derek move and quickly froze the doors in place, not wanting him out there. The last thing he needed was to explain to Talia why her only son was dead. The Collector grinned as she saw what Jackson did, her eyes focused on his.

“You have amazing control, little snow wolf,” she said and stepped forward, frowning when her feet were frozen to the earth. “And so powerful. I guess that means you’ve hit puberty.” She leaned around and looked at Derek. “He’s cute. He would even fetch a high price. Just look at that jawline.”

Jackson kept his face neutral. He didn’t want to hear that kind of crap from Stiles, someone he cared about. He certainly didn’t want to hear it from some hunter that thought Derek was his mate. She looked back at him and tilted her head slightly, as though surprised by his lack of reaction.

“Oh, well.” She straightened her shoulders and went to take another step, forgetting that she was frozen in place. She sighed and loaded a new clip into her weapon, shooting the ice. “You’ll have to do. And you’ll definitely fetch top price.”

Jackson heard two others approaching the road. He couldn’t find their scents and knew they were hunters. His eyes narrowed slightly as he raised his hands. His air slipped through the trees and wrapped around the hunters, bringing them to the road, where they crashed. He flicked his hands and the two bodies were impaled on branches, dead in seconds as their blood stained the earth. Jackson kept his eyes on the woman the entire time. She was the one he didn’t trust.

She took another step and Jackson’s eyes flashed vivid azure. Her body jerked as the ice formed in her veins, freezing her from the inside out. In minutes, she was dead, collapsing to the ground and her insides shattering. Exhaling shakily, Jackson rested against the hood of the car and closed his eyes. That was far more terrifying than he thought it would be. He glanced at the bodies and winced, realizing he needed to hide those. It wouldn’t do any of them any sort of good to have them found. The less other hunters knew about him and Stiles the better.

Unfreezing the doors, Jackson let Derek finally get out of the car. The werewolf checked him over, as though he had taken some kind of damage. Jackson let him have it, as he could smell the fear on the werewolf. Turning from Derek, Jackson looked at the body in the tree to the right of the road. He jumped onto the branch and removed the mask, eyes widening. The hunter couldn’t be more than a couple years older than him.

“What the hell happened, Jackson?” Derek asked from the road and Jackson turned to him, tilting his head. “How did they know about you?”

Jackson frowned. “The alpha,” he said and stepped over the body, pushing it off the branch with his foot. “The alpha attacked the house, because it was there to collect Stiles. It would have reported my coloring back to these guys and now they know about me, too.”

The body hit the ground and Jackson sighed, crouching on the branch. He stared down at the teenager he killed, wondering how they knew about Stiles. While Stiles got excited and his magic dropped, he never had it drop in public before. Both of them were extremely careful and controlled when around strangers. Jackson couldn’t believe that a member of the Hale pack would tell someone about them, either.

Dropping down, Jackson went across the road and jumped onto the branch that held the other body. He removed the mask and cursed when he saw that one was even younger. He shook his head and sighed, stepping over the body and pushing it off the branch with his foot. He kept his eyes down, refusing to see the horror or pity in Derek’s eyes as he cleaned up his mess.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked and Jackson finally looked at him. He was confused and concerned.

“Cleaning up,” Jackson answered as he stepped off the branch. He grabbed the first body by an arm and dragged it over to the left side. “Leaving bodies around isn’t a shifter’s way of dealing with hunters.”

Jackson grabbed the second body by the arm and dragged them a few hundred meters into the trees. He returned for the third body and slung it over his shoulder. Vincent would murder him if he knew that Jackson had kept bodies out in the open for anyone to find. If the hunters didn’t hear from them, they would assume they were dead or captured. If they found the bodies, they wouldn’t stop until everyone around the shifters were dead. Losing Stiles was not something Jackson wanted to think about.

With the bodies together, Jackson’s eyes flashed silver. A rectangle of earth was sliced and raised. He threw the bodies into the hole and the earth settled down, compacting the bodies and looking as though it was never disturbed. He returned to the car, head down. He would need to explain to Talia what happened and how they couldn’t possibly protect them against The Collectors.

“Jackson,” Derek said and the shifter stopped. He waited, almost hoping that Derek’s hand would find its way to his neck. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jackson breathed. “Two of them were young. I forget that hunters have families.”

That was a damn lie, but he didn’t care. He had just murdered two teenagers. The idea of one being younger than him had him terrified. She was probably fourteen and was ready to tear him away and put him up for auction. He knew that should anger him, but that was what her life was. He couldn’t begrudge her that. She was raised to see shifters as dollar signs. He was raised to see hunters as targets to wipe out.

“We should head back. I need to speak with Alpha Hale.” Jackson slipped into the passenger seat and buckled the seatbelt, staring out the window.

The drive back to the Hale house was done in silence. Jackson didn’t want to talk and he didn’t want to hear Derek talk. Talia was waiting for them outside and rushed to the passenger door. She pulled Jackson out of the car and hugged him tightly, which just had Jackson frowning. He doubted she knew what he’d done.

“Vincent just called,” Talia said as she released Jackson. “Your parents were attacked by hunters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it. Now, a word to the sponsors.
> 
> Bernard: I'm definitely glad to know that black hearts are good. Thank you for the comment and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Guest1701: Thanks for the comment. I hope this chapter answered some of the questions you had. And I hope you're happy that I finally revealed with breed Jackson is. Of course, there will be more explanations as the story goes on. Until then, I hope this one satisfied something. Hope to hear from you again!
> 
> Reddy_no_1: I am so sorry about all the questions you had. As I said above, I hope this chapter answered some of them. As a writer, it's my sworn duty to make sure the reader always has questions. It means that they'll keep reading, hoping to get the answers. As for who bit Scott, it was just some random alpha that I brought into the story. I figured I could keep a couple things from the show in here. As for the stall question...they all think Jackson and Stiles did *something* in there. Thanks for the comment and I hope to hear from you again!
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: Shh, don't tell him that. Besides, you know how stubborn Jacks can be. He'll just deny it until he can't. And honestly, I think he's really hoping that it'll go away when his puberty is over (even though it already is). And yes, Derek and learning...Honestly. Those two can be so thick at times. Thanks for the comment! I hope you enjoyed this one, as well!
> 
> To those that left kudos, thanks a bunch!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	7. New Arrivals

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

Stiles watched as Jackson paced the length of the living room. The air around the shifter was freezing, making it impossible for anyone to offer any comfort. His mind was shut off to those around him, his eyes cold and blue as he glared ahead. Jackson didn’t seem to care that his parents had been attacked, as he only asked one question, which had them all staring at him.

“What about my dogs?”

Talia had no idea what to say. Stiles couldn’t think of a thing to say, either. Jackson didn’t ask about his parents, which was something all of them were expecting. He hadn’t seen them for eight years and Stiles knew it pained him that his parents wouldn’t visit for any of the holidays. He at least got to see his father for Christmas. Jackson had no one and tried to act as though that was normal and that it didn’t hurt him.

Knowing his breed, Stiles understood why Jackson kept to himself as much as possible. He knew snow wolves were outcast within the shifter world. No one wanted them around, should hunters find out about them. The hunters were known to wipe out entire packs, just for one snow wolf. That breed had been hunted to extinction, which made him wonder how Jackson had been born one. Those were the questions that kept him up at night, sometimes. He couldn’t imagine such a lonely existence.

Jackson ran his hands through his hair as Talia agreed to call and ask about the dogs. The air dropped in temperature and what moisture was around froze, suspended. Small, crystal like orbs floated around Jackson as he continued pacing, waiting for news on his dogs. Stiles bit the inside of his lower lip, watching the cold fury in Jackson’s eyes deepen, which was trying to mask the fear that his pets were dead.

Licking his lips, Stiles glanced at Peter, who stood beside him. He felt the warm hand of the werewolf on his shoulder. All of them knew that one wrong word could tip Jackson over the edge. All of them had smelled the blood on the snow wolf and Derek had explained that hunters had found them, which Jackson killed. Stiles had thought for a moment that Jackson felt something about that, but he got the feeling that Jackson only cared about the dogs. Taking the life of a hunter didn’t seem to weigh heavily on him.

Swallowing, Stiles stepped past the threshold of the living room, the orbs of moisture melting around him. He forced back a shiver as the chill clung to him. “Tell me about your dogs,” he said and Jackson stopped, turning around slowly to stare at him. “What breed are they?”

“Zeus is a Maremma and Artemis is a Pyrenean Mountain Dog,” Jackson said softly and Stiles nodded. He had never heard of those breeds before.

“Why those breeds?”

Jackson tilted his head and his eyes moved over to Peter and Derek, who were still in the threshold of the room. “They were bred to kill wolves,” he said and smirked as Peter growled at him.

Stiles’ eyes widened and he nodded, stepping back out of the room with his hands raised. “They sound…nice,” he said and stood beside Peter, terrified that Jackson’s anger would turn to him.

Jackson nodded stiffly and went back to pacing the living room. Stiles frowned as Jackson rubbed the scars on his neck. His eyes slid over to Derek, who was watching every movement of the shifter, waiting for a moment to swoop in and offer comfort. Stiles knew that Jackson would never let that happen. He would freeze them all and suffer whatever consequences came from that.

Peter’s hand on the small of his back steadied him and Stiles went back to looking at Jackson, while Talia spoke with someone. He had no idea what Jackson’s parents sounded like, so he wasn’t sure if they were on the other end. All he knew was that she hadn’t received a phone call about his father. He doubted he would fair any better than Jackson was at the moment. His father was the only thing, aside from the Hale pack, that he had left in the world. He didn’t want to lose him.

Talia hung up and joined the rest of them in the threshold. Jackson paused and stared at her. She smiled and nodded. “Zeus and Artemis are fine.”

Jackson seemed frozen for a moment, before he dropped his head and the tension left his body. Two silver drops fell from his eyes and Stiles smiled, remembering the first time he saw those tears. He should have known there was something special about Jackson the first time he saw the silver liquid leaving his eyes, mixing with the rainwater. No ice wolf had tears like that, but Jackson was also his first experience with a snow wolf.

He stepped forward to hug Jackson, but Peter pulled him back. “Let Derek,” he whispered and Stiles nodded.

Derek stepped into the room and approached Jackson like he was a wounded animal. The moment he was within a foot of the shifter, Jackson’s head snapped up. The glare was pure death. “Touch me and I’ll rip your lungs out through your dick,” he warned and Stiles had to flinch at the idea. He was almost certain he felt his own dick recede into his body.

Taking heed of the words, Derek nodded and stepped back. Stiles shook his head and went up to Jackson, pulling him into a hug. The shifter lost the last bit of anger in his body, resting his forehead on Stiles’ chest. Stiles rubbed Jackson’s back, not understanding why he was fighting against Derek so much. It made no sense in his mind. Aside from it being obvious that they were mates, Jackson rarely, if ever, left the room whenever Derek entered. He wanted to hang around and argue with Derek, like that was their version of foreplay.

Jackson sniffed and turned his head. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Stiles glanced down, seeing that Jackson’s tears clung to his lashes like diamonds, before they left their silver tracks down his cheeks. He smiled, tightening his hold on the snow wolf. “You’re welcome.”

\--

Over the next two days, Stiles did his history assignment and sighed as Derek and Jackson argued over _everything_. Jackson wanted his dogs at the Hale house and Derek refused to have dogs that were bred and trained to kill wolves anywhere near the house. It devolved from there. Derek was standing too close to Jackson and a fist fight broke out, which left the pair exhausted and panting in the study. Jackson froze Derek’s morning coffee, which evolved into barbs and threats being thrown around.

Peter sat beside him in the kitchen, reading the newspaper as Jackson threatened to castrate Derek if he touched him again. Laura and Talia had left to pick something up, while Cora patrolled the forest. Stiles heard a bang and sighed again. He stood up and found the pair in the front hallway, Derek had pinned Jackson to a wall, the pair glaring into each other’s eyes. It seemed that Derek’s infinite patience had found a limit. That limit was Jackson Whittemore.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow as there were soft growls and Derek pressed in closer to Jackson. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!” He shook his head as Derek and Jackson stared at him.

Before either could say anything, the sound of a car returning rang through. Jackson sniffed the air and his eyes widened, eyes swirling for just a moment, before he ran from the house. Stiles frowned and followed. Jackson was on the porch, staring at the direction of the car, his excitement growing by the moment. Stiles had to wonder if Laura and Talia had stopped off to pick up Vincent, as having a dragon around would be a great way to prevent the hunters from doing their job.

Instead, Stiles stared as Laura pulled up and he saw two massive, white dogs barely fitting in the backseat of the car. Jackson actually squealed with delight as he ran over to the car and ripped the seat out, throwing it to the side. The dogs jumped out and tackled Jackson, whining happily, licking their master and wagging their fluffy tails. For the first time since they arrived, Jackson was happy.

\--

The change was instant. Stiles was actually scared of how happy Jackson was. He kept by Peter’s side, watching as the massive dogs patrolled the house. Jackson snapped orders at them in a language Stiles didn’t recognize, but the dogs hadn’t been hostile towards any of the occupants. Derek had glared at the animals that had taken Jackson’s attention from him. The dogs simply ignored the werewolf. Cora had fallen in love with them and even Laura enjoyed their company.

Stiles gazed at the dogs that were laying by their master’s feet in the living room, while Jackson read _The Great Gatsby_. Artemis raised her head as he stepped into the living room, watching him. Without a doubt, she could smell his anxiety. He didn’t know the first thing about dogs and he wondered why Jackson would want or need them. He could clearly defend himself, until he remembered the first day they arrived. Jackson was adopted by the Whittemores. He had no idea who his parents were.

“Can I meet them?” Stiles asked and Jackson lowered the book, raising an eyebrow at him. “Your dogs.”

“You don’t like them. You have Artemis on edge and Zeus wants to take you in as part of his flock, which means that if Artemis snaps at you, he’ll snap at her. Once you’re comfortable around them, I’ll let you meet them properly.” Jackson raised the book and Stiles blinked.

Looking at the bigger of the dogs, Stiles tilted his head. Artemis’s nose twitched, taking in his scent. He swallowed and nodded, backing out of the living room. Those dogs were bred and raised to kill wolves, bears and any other threat to their flock. He had done his research on them and was surprised that Jackson had gone with those breeds. Still, it was nice to see him relaxed and actually happy.

\--

Stiles spent the night in Peter’s room, despite Jackson offering to sleep in the living room. He didn’t want Jackson to inconvenience himself and he wasn’t about to argue with those dogs, either. Peter had given up his bed and stood guard by the door. Stiles had no idea what it was about those dogs that frightened him. They hadn’t shown any aggression towards him, but he would find out what was causing it.

\--

The next day, Jackson joined him at the breakfast counter and stared at him. Stiles watched as the dogs trailed behind him, eating their breakfast, before going out the door that was never closed anymore. Once they were outside, Stiles relaxed and Jackson tilted his head.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said in answer to Jackson’s silent question. “There’s something about them that scares the crap out of me.”

Stiles’ eyes widened as Jackson hugged him, cool arms sliding around his waist and a chin resting on his shoulder. He glanced at the snow wolf, seeing that Jackson had his eyes lowered. It wasn’t very often that Jackson hugged him. In fact he could think of only one occasion. Two, if he counted puberty, which he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson whispered and closed his eyes for a moment.

When he looked up, Stiles jerked away from him, heart hammering in his chest. Since when did Jackson look adorable? His body trembled and he fought off the guilt when Jackson winced at his reaction, as though he expected everyone to do that with him. His puberty was over. He shouldn’t find Jackson attractive and he definitely wasn’t going to deal with a jealous werewolf.

Before he could say anything, Jackson turned and walked out the door, calling to his dogs. Stiles sighed and ran his hands through his hair, trying to understand what the hell just happened. He turned around and found Peter watching him, a smirk on his face. Something told him that the older werewolf was about to tell him something he didn’t want to hear.

“You’re not scared of them, Stiles,” Peter said gently and hugged him. “You’re jealous of them.”

* * *

Jackson swallowed thickly as he walked through the trees. Artemis and Zeus trotted ahead of him, taking in all the different scents and marking their territory. They turned back to him, circling around him and moved forward again, as though to remind him that he wasn’t alone. Except, once they passed on, he would be alone.

The one person he never expected to pull away from him was Stiles. They had grown up together, gone through puberty together. They were being hunted by The Collectors together. They both had a member of the Aelioseus dragon family help them with their magic. Stiles understood him far better than any of the werewolves in the house. He knew what hell awaited him the moment he turned twenty-one.

Still, it had cut deeply when Stiles pulled away. Something about Jackson had terrified him and that wasn’t something Jackson wanted to deal with. He didn’t need his only friend pulling away from him and reminding him of how alone he truly was in the world.

Wiping his eyes, Jackson inhaled shakily. He could act as though nothing had changed. He could pretend that he wasn’t shunned by his brother. He had been lying about himself for years, before the Hale pack found out about him. He could continue with the lie and hide who he really was.

Zeus stopped and walked beside Jackson, making him smile. He petted the soft fur atop the dog’s head and inhaled deeply, the pair of them following Artemis. She wound through the trees and stopped in front of a sycamore, which had Jackson frowning. He kissed the top of her head and placed a hand on the trunk, wincing at the poison that was in the tree.

Jackson gasped as a black spike pierced his palm and he stepped back, sliding his hand off the spike. That wasn’t normal poison. Zeus and Artemis growled. Jackson heard them, as well. There were four of them, surrounding him and he knew they would be prepared. Three hunters vanishing after he visited their hideout was a sure sign that they had underestimated him.

“ _Párte ton Ntérek_ ,” he said to his dogs.

They glanced at him, before they ran from the area. The hunters were slowly making their way towards him and Jackson wasn’t going to admit that he was worried. He would prefer to have Stiles beside him, but he would rather the metal wolf stay away from The Collectors as much as possible. The less they knew about his magic, the better it would be for when they could finally mount an attack.

Jackson’s ears twitched, listening to the near silent footsteps of the hunters. There was a twang and he spun around, his ice slicing the net, which sizzled. The ice continued along the path, impaling the hunter that tried to net him. The others paused and Jackson turned slowly, trying to locate their positions. He couldn’t smell them and their footsteps were too light to properly tell where they were.

“He’s an ice wolf,” someone whispered.

“Their hearts are still worth a decent amount. Capture him.”

Jackson ducked as a silver chain was flung at him. It wrapped around a sapling and his eyes widened as the tree basically melted. This party was definitely more well equipped for dealing with him, even if they did think he was only an ice wolf. He needed to keep that idea alive, as they would get sloppy.

Standing, Jackson smirked as the hunters came into view. He could feel their eyes on him, waiting for him to show his colors. Ice wolf prices varied, depending on their element. He knew enough to know his adoptive parents would garner fair prices, but they were common amongst ice wolves. Those with red or gold in their coloring were highly prized among regular shifters. Stiles having both colors meant he would be in high demand.

Lowering his eyes, Jackson listened to the steady hearts of the hunters. There were two sets of feet running towards him and he inhaled deeply, catching the warm metal of Stiles. His dogs were with the pair. “Artemis, _prostatépste ton metallikó lýko_ ,” he shouted, hearing a growl from Artemis and gasp from Stiles.

One of the hunters choked and collapsed, their throat ripped open from claws. Jackson raised his head and smirked, eyes flashing blue at the hunter to his right. The hunter gasped and Jackson tilted his head, eyes going silver for a moment. He grinned psychotically when the oxygen in the hunter literally exploded from the body, spraying blood everywhere. The body fell to the ground and Jackson turned to the remaining hunter, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered as the final hunter’s body exploded with blood and crumpled. “I wasn’t sure if the dogs would convey the message.”

“When they’re tugging at my jeans, I kinda got the message.” Derek turned to Jackson and took hold of his hand, looking at the hole. “Are you okay?”

“Holy shit!” Stiles shouted and Jackson’s eyes widened.

He and Derek ran to the metal wolf and found that Artemis and Zeus were on another hunter. Jackson’s eyes widened, trying to figure out how he had missed that extra heartbeat. As far as he knew, there were only the four hunters. This one was apparently male, as Zeus had hold between the legs and Artemis’s jaws clamped around the throat. There was a wet, choked gasp and the body stopped moving.

Stiles stared at the dogs as they walked up to Jackson, who crouched and hugged them. “ _Kalí douleiá, ta katoikídia mou_ ,” he whispered to them. He looked at Stiles and smiled. “See? They aren’t all bad.”

“I mean…Fuck! They just took down a shifter hunter like nothing.” Stiles stared at the dogs for a moment, before he smiled. “Okay, they aren’t bad.”

“ _Spíti_ ,” Jackson told the dogs and they trotted back to the Hale house. Jackson stood and stared at Stiles, who was gazing after the dogs. He slapped the metal wolf upside the head and Stiles frowned at him. “They were pulling Hale away, not you. Why did you follow?”

“It was obvious you were in trouble,” Stiles answered with a shrug. “And I knew it had to be bad if you sent them back for Derek.”

Jackson glared at Stiles, before he hugged him tightly. “You could’ve been hurt, you idiot,” he hissed. “They were after me.”

“I know,” Stiles said and returned the hug, ignoring Derek’s confused glare at him. “Snow wolves fetch a higher price than metal wolves.”

Jackson sighed and stepped back. “You’d still be worth millions to them.” He closed his eyes and calmed his racing heart. The idea of losing Stiles to The Collectors wasn’t one he wanted to dwell on. He looked at Stiles. “If they come for Hale again, _don’t_ follow.”

Stiles scoffed. “Like I’m gonna let you have all the fun,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not like they don’t know about me. They knew about me before they knew about you.”

“I know,” Jackson said and lowered his eyes. “But now that they know about me, they want me more. You might be one of three, but I’m one of a kind.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I know, Jacks. I’m heading back. I think I need to thank your pets for saving my ass.”

“Be wary of Artemis. She _will_ go for the throat.” Jackson smiled as Stiles headed back to the house and exhaled shakily. “You took your sweet ass time getting here,” he snapped at Derek with a glare.

Derek growled. “I had to make sure you didn’t send your pets back to maul me,” he said, walking past Jackson and knocking his shoulder. “How was I meant to know there were shifter hunters lurking in the trees?”

Jackson opened his mouth, but paused and frowned. He hadn’t told anyone that The Collectors were in town. None of them knew, except Stiles, as he was told about his parents the moment he returned. Finding out about his dogs was vastly more important than dealing with a group of hunters that wanted to collect him and Stiles. He bit his lower lip.

Derek stared at him, frowning. “What?”

Jackson looked at his left hand. The bleeding hadn’t stopped, but it was trying to heal over. Without sleep, it would continue to bleed. The Collectors knew almost everything about him. They knew he healed trees, which was why they poisoned one. That little tidbit was unique to him. Snow wolves weren’t generally healers, they were definitely more defense than offense. How did they know he could heal?

They didn’t know about his dogs, though. If they had known about Artemis and Zeus, they would’ve had plans in place. Jackson was grateful about that, as his dogs would still be a surprise to them. That didn’t help him with his other problem, though. Someone in the Hale house was leaking information, somehow. None of them would do that, at least not willingly. So he hoped.

“Are there any werewolf hunters in the town?” Jackson asked and looked at Derek. He frowned as Derek’s shoulders tensed slightly, before they relaxed.

“Why?” Derek growled and Jackson cocked an eyebrow.

“Don’t get defensive, Hale,” he said and smirked when Derek glared at him. “You banging one of them?” Derek snarled and Jackson shook his head. “Were you _dumb_ enough to tell them about me?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Derek grounded out, his glare darkening. “Why would I talk about you with someone else? I can barely stand to talk _to_ you.”

“Oh, I know, Sparky. Woe is you. You’ve got your family, your girlfriend – or boyfriend. I don’t judge. And you have to take care of me. Someone that’s being hunted so their heart can be cut out of their live body and feasted upon, so whoever eats it can gain my magical abilities and immortality. God, it sucks to be you.” Jackson stepped past Derek and paused. “I suggest you stop drinking whatever your bed partner is giving you.”

Jackson made his way back to the Hale house, surprised to see Stiles sitting on the back porch, Artemis and Zeus sitting by his sides. He smiled, which he lost when Stiles stared at him. There was something akin to pain in his eyes and his scent was not normal for Stiles. Jackson frowned and Stiles held up his left hand, showing the scar on his palm. Jackson’s eyes widened, trying to understand what he was seeing.

“Something is happening with Derek,” Stiles said and dropped his hand. “I don’t know what, but it’s turning him against you in every way. Part of him knows something is wrong, though.”

Jackson bit his lower lip and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened when Stiles was in front of him in a heartbeat. Something was seriously wrong with the situation. Stiles smelled really good and Jackson felt a shiver run through his body. He gasped and stumbled back, staring at Stiles, who was sporting a scar on his hand, where Jackson had been injured.

“I’m not getting involved in a love triangle,” Jackson said and worked to calm his body. “What the hell is going on, Stiles?”

“How am I meant to know? I woke up this morning and you were the best looking person I’d ever seen! I was jealous of your dogs, because they made you happy and I didn’t! Plus, you and Sourwolf have been at each other’s throats more than usual. Some of it actually seemed…not good.” Stiles groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “This is messed up.”

“You’re telling me!” Jackson ran his hands over his face, exhaling shakily. “I can’t be mated to the pair of you! I don’t even want to be mated to a werewolf. You!...You actually make sense, though.”

“I’m not your mate, though!” Stiles winced and rubbed his chest.

Jackson placed his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Stiles sighed. “That hurt more than I thought it would.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Jackson’s hand trailed up Stiles’ shoulder, lightly stroking his throat. He caught what he was doing and pulled his hand back, crossing his arms. _I think Derek is sleeping with one of the werewolf hunters,_ he said and Stiles opened his eyes, staring at him.

Gazing back at the metal wolf, Jackson felt something strange. It was the same strange feeling he got around Derek and one he quickly smashed down. He gripped his biceps hard, hard enough to leave bruises on his pale skin. If he could control himself around Derek, he could control himself around Stiles. Neither were his mates and he would be damned if he was going to be drawn into some kind of romantic drama. He got more than enough of that with Lydia and Stiles.

_Did he say that he was?_ Stiles’ voice was filled with concern and fear. Jackson understood. The last thing any of them needed was Derek being used against them and his family. It was the only thing Jackson could think of. There was no way Derek would tell some stranger about him, even if he was blind drunk or messed up on wolfsbane. Derek had been the one to tell him that they were there to protect him.

_No. He didn’t say it. But he didn’t deny it, either._ Jackson shrugged and Stiles tilted his head. Their eyes met and they smirked, knowing exactly what that meant. It was time to skip school, the only time Derek didn’t bother to follow Jackson around like a bad smell. Their smirks disappeared quickly when they remembered that it was summer break.

_How is—?_ Jackson shook his head. He had no idea. Derek never left the house, unless he was patrolling or at college. He couldn’t see Derek endangering both him and Stiles for some nookie, though. That was entirely insane. Unfortunately, there weren’t many other options they were left with. It was time to follow him during one of his patrols. If it turned out he was sleeping with a werewolf hunter, that’s what Artemis and Zeus were for.

\--

For the next two weeks, Derek didn’t patrol. He did sneak out of the house a few times, but with someone else in the trees, Jackson and Stiles decided to wait until it was just Derek out there. They could explain their meeting with Derek, but if Laura or god forbid Talia saw them outside? That was a can of hell neither of them were going to open, unless it was desperately needed.

Things had changed in those fourteen days. The scar disappeared from Stiles’ hand and Stiles confirmed that it had reappeared on Derek’s. Shit was making no sense to Jackson and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Derek hadn’t been overly bitchy towards him recently, but he was still sneaking out of the house. Jackson wanted to slip into his mind and discover the secrets he was hiding. As he didn’t want that happening to him, he stupidly lived by the rule, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’

“They’re going to notice our heartbeats missing from the house,” Stiles whispered as Jackson opened the window of their bedroom.

Jackson looked at Stiles. “You can’t make a perfect copy of yourself?” He flicked his hand and his twin was in the bed, under the covers.

_Shit._ Stiles stared at the Jackson in the bed. _No, I can’t do that. I don’t have your kind of magic._ Jackson tilted his head and shrugged, flicking his hand at Stiles’ bed. Stiles spun around, staring at his perfect double. He looked back at Jackson, who simply smiled and slipped out the window, landing lightly on his feet. Stiles was a little less graceful, landing with a distinct _thump_ that just had Jackson shaking his head. Glancing at the window, Jackson cocked his head to the side and the heartbeats started up.

Grabbing Stiles’ hand, Jackson pulled him away from the house and into the trees. If Talia and Peter ever discovered they left the house in the middle of the night, both of them would be skinned. The werewolves were going out of their way to protect them and they were sneaking off into the night. Even Jackson had to admit that was stupid. That didn’t stop him from doing it, though. He needed to know if Derek was being used.

Thankfully, Stiles knew how to move through a forest silently. Jackson was glad that was one thing he didn’t need to worry about. The downside was when he gasped, which sounded like a gunshot in the dark stillness of night as a burning sensation raced across his torso. He placed a hand to his chest, pulling up the shirt and frowned at the scar that was stretching from his left clavicle down to his right hip. Someone was torturing Derek.

Scanning the dark forest, Jackson tried to sniff out where Derek was. He couldn’t find his scent. He doubted that the shifter hunters would hide it, but perhaps someone else had. There was a growl to their right, so that was the direction they ran. The pair of them came to a skidding stop when they saw the alpha werewolf standing beside some woman. Jackson recognized the scent. She was the one that had been in the area where Scott was bitten.

“Oh,” she said sweetly as Jackson and Stiles stood up. “These must be those shifters you told me about, Derek.” Jackson narrowed his eyes as she purred Derek’s name, but looked around her and found Derek tied to a tree. There was dried blood on his torso. “He’s pretty,” the woman said, her eyes focused on Jackson.

Jackson focused his eyes on the woman, tilting his head. Her mind wasn’t protected in the slightest and he easily sifted through her memories, seeing everything. From when she concocted some kind of potion and shot Derek with it, to her forcing a drink down his throat, smirking as he spilled everything he knew. To where she laughed as the concoction she created made Derek believe he was truly in love with her. She was a nasty piece of work and she was working with The Collectors, simply because she wanted the shifters out of the way so she could destroy the Hale pack.

“Wow,” Stiles breathed as he stared at the woman. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“Taking out an innocent pack, just because they’re werewolves?” Jackson shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re lowly creatures, but they’ve done nothing wrong.”

The woman smirked and Jackson rolled his eyes. “Do you think I would come out here without backup?”

Jackson matched the woman’s smirk as there were growls and people cursing. The smell of blood was thick enough for the hunter to catch wind of it. “Do you think I would lead a rescue mission without backup?”

The alpha snarled and charged at them. Stiles’ eyes flashed ruby and the alpha seized up, smoke coming from the skin. There was an agonized roar, before it fell to the ground, a charred remain. Stiles looked at the hunter and grinned, a circle of flames preventing the other hunters from getting to them. Jackson placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, smiling his thanks.

The woman glared as the shifters looked at her. “You can’t kill me. If you do, it’ll start a war between hunters and werewolves.”

Jackson tilted his head and the woman’s eyes widened when cold seeped into her legs. She looked down at the ice encasing her lower half. “Go check on Hale,” he told Stiles, not taking his eyes off the hunter.

“You gotta learn to keep your dick out of crazy, Sourwolf,” Stiles said as he untied Derek’s hands.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Derek said weakly and rolled his shoulders. “Did I?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said and grinned. “Why do you think Jacks is torturing her? She touched what’s his.”

Jackson growled and glared at Stiles. Derek’s eyes widened and before he could utter a sound, Zeus leapt through the flames and latched onto the woman’s arm. She screamed as the bone was broken and the pistol fell from her hand. Jackson crouched down and hugged Zeus, his white fur splattered with blood from the hunters he took care of. He knew Artemis would be in the same state.

“Good boy.” Jackson pulled back, looking into the hazelnut eyes of his dog. “ _Párte tous spíti kai prostatépste tous_ ,” he said and Zeus cocked his head to the side, before he stood in front of Stiles and Derek. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Stiles’ eyes widened and he said nothing as he supported Derek, taking him through a gap in the flames. Zeus walked in front of them, fluffy tail moving behind him as he led the way back to the Hale house. He winced as he heard the woman screaming, knowing that Jackson wouldn’t stop until all his anger at her for using his mate was out of his system.

“I…I slept with her?” Derek asked and Stiles nodded. He had seen it in her memories.

“Yeah, magical roofie.” Stiles shuddered. “Jacks is gonna be pissed with you, as well.”

“When isn’t he?”

\--

True to his word, Jackson returned to the Hale house an hour later. He walked in through the backdoor, finding the family in the kitchen. Derek was being seen to by the local veterinarian and Jackson raised an eyebrow as they stared at him. He grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and sat at the table, watching as Deaton extracted the last of the wolfsbane and whatever else Kate Argent had injected into him.

“What state did you leave her body in?” Talia asked, glancing at Jackson.

“An unrecognizable one,” Jackson answered.

Laura sighed softly. “Can you two prove anything?”

Stiles frowned. “We can transfer memories or have them pulled by a memory shifter, if the Argents think we might alter them,” he said with a shrug.

“I don’t think the Argents were aware of what Kate was doing,” Deaton said softly, a sharp glance at Jackson. “She may have been working alone.”

“She wasn’t working alone,” Jackson said and drank his juice, sitting back and gazing at the werewolves and druid. “She was working with a group of shifter hunters known as The Collectors,” he explained. “They would’ve felt our magic and come looking, just to see if there was anything worth collecting. I kept my colors and magic hidden. Stiles did not.”

“While you and Peter were away, checking on other packs about the rogue alpha,” Stiles went on, turning his eyes to Talia. “The alpha attacked Derek and Laura. I showed my colors to it and it ran off. I didn’t even think. I just acted.”

“Which is why when he was going through puberty, the alpha was there to collect him. My stupid brotherly protection of him made me reveal my colors.” Jackson growled and shook his head.

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Only you could find that as a bad thing. Protecting Stiles was the first thought in your head. Take the win, dude.”

“For the last hundred and twenty years, hunters believed my breed extinct,” Jackson said as he finished the juice. “They don’t really care about Stiles anymore. I would fetch hundreds of millions to the right buyer. And if they’ve gotten word out, there’ll be more collectors arriving. It’s going to be non-stop until every single one of them is dead or I am.” He sighed. “I’m not being dramatic, by the way. Once they’re done with me, they’ll come for Stiles.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna watch my heart being cut out of my body,” Stiles said and shuddered as the horror settled in him.

“That’s not going to happen,” Peter stated, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

“By the way,” Stiles said and trained his eyes on Jackson. “What do you feed your dogs?”

Jackson snorted and stood up. “Do you really think I’d love something without making sure it was magically protected?” He tossed the empty bottle into the recycle box and stretched his arms above his head. “Those dogs and you are the only things I’d die for. Goodnight.”

With the shocked eyes of the werewolves on him, Jackson left the kitchen. He paused when the others struggled to keep Derek back. He looked at the werewolf and raised an eyebrow. Derek glared at him and Jackson cried out as Derek forced his words into his head, with a scorching intensity that had him falling to his knees and tears trickling from his eyes.

Once it let up, Jackson lowered his shaking hands and stared at Derek. _You can’t push me away, Jackson._ There was such conviction behind those words that Jackson was surprised Derek felt that kind of passion. Those words bounced around his head, much less intense when he was thinking about them. He swallowed as Derek approached him, there was purpose in his strides, as though he wanted to remind Jackson that there wasn’t anywhere he could escape to. Derek would follow him to Tartarus and back.

Crouching in front of him, Derek brushed the silvery tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he said and Jackson searched his eyes, trying to find some kind of falsehood, some lie, something to make him hate the werewolf. “It will never happen again.”

Jackson tilted his head. “You almost got your family killed, Hale,” he whispered and stood. “You almost had two protected shifters sold off. You’re _damn right_ it won’t happen again.” He inhaled shakily and looked at Talia. “You need to speak with the Argents. With The Collectors coming into town, there will be bloodshed.”

Swallowing, Jackson called to his dogs and went upstairs. He showered quickly and closed his eyes, thinking on Derek’s words. Something had led Derek to Kate in the first place. Something had happened. The drugging was recent, especially as she was trying to use it as a means for Jackson to ignore Derek and let him die. Somehow, that thought hadn’t crossed his mind.

Opening his eyes, Jackson stared at his reflection. His face was still new to him, a face that Derek had wanted. The chiseled angles and sharp edges belied a maturity he didn’t have. His only outlet was his pouty mouth and expressive eyes. He watched as tears gathered along his lower lashes. Werewolf hunters and shifter hunters teaming up was rarely a good thing. None of them could survive that onslaught.

_You have unlimited magic at your disposal._ Vincent had looked grave when he told six year old Jackson that. _You will be hunted for your heart. Hiding who and what you are is the only way to protect those you care about._ He had looked at Artemis and Zeus, knowing those dogs were the only thing Jackson cared about in Silver Falls. His adoptive parents didn’t even factor on the list. Jackson could remember asking why. What made him so special that people would specifically hunt him?

_Snow wolves are the only wolf-shifters that can use as much magic as they want, without it aging them. Think of the magic that shifters use as a drug. The more they use, the more it takes a toll on their body. Being immortal doesn’t mean shit if you can’t use your magic with moderation._ Vincent placed a hand on Artemis’s head. _You can use as much as you want and never age a day. Why do you think snow wolves were hunted to extinction?_ Jackson hadn’t known how to answer that. If he was being honest, he hadn’t even thought about it.

What would they do if they found me?

_They will cut your beating heart from your body, while you’re still alive. You’ll be alive long enough to watch as someone eats it, absorbing everything you are and everything you would be. What must you do?_ Jackson knew. He always knew what he had to do, in order to survive. He had to hide who he was. He would tell anyone that knew he was a shifter that he was an ice wolf.

How do I hide myself completely?

Vincent had given a rueful smile. _You can’t. There will be those that can smell your scent. You can’t change that, without serious repercussions. There will be one who can protect you, if you can let him in._ Jackson had been confused at that. He was only six and he had no idea what Vincent was talking about.

Jackson turned to the door of the bathroom, clothing forming on his body. He pulled open the door and listened. Talia, Peter and Stiles were still in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. Laura and Cora were patrolling and Deaton had clearly left. There was a heartbeat upstairs and Jackson followed it down the hallway, knocking on a door. Derek opened the door and frowned at him.

“You and Vincent played that first meeting very well,” Jackson said and Derek shrugged. “That’s why you kept touching me, even when I told you to stop.”

“He told me that you would be stubborn about it. He knew you’d have a hard time adjusting to being hunted.” Jackson frowned and Derek shook his head, leaning against the door. “No, he never said what breed you were. He just told me that I needed to put as much of my scent on you as possible. I didn’t even realize that ice wolves don’t smell like fresh snow.”

Jackson nodded, lowering his eyes. He knew that Stiles was listening to their conversation. “Give me one of your shirts. Preferably one you’ve worn,” he said as he removed his shirt.

Derek raised an eyebrow, but turned and grabbed a shirt, handing it to Jackson. “You know, there are easier ways to get my scent on—”

“I’m not hugging you,” Jackson said, not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice. “I’m not _that_ desperate.” He pulled on the Henley and groaned. “God, what did you _do_ in this? It smells of…Jesus, is that sexual frustration?”

“It was the only clean one I had,” Derek said with a shrug. “I would give you the one I was wearing tonight, but I get the feeling you’d bitch about the blood on it.”

Jackson scoffed and looked down at the shirt. He didn’t think he was that much smaller than Derek, but the shirt was loose on him. “I guess this means you won’t be leaving me alone again.”

“You like my company, Jackson. You’re just lying to yourself at this stage.”

Jackson looked up sharply at the smirk on Derek’s face. “No, I’ve got standards. They might be low, but they’re there.” He grinned when the smirk dropped from Derek’s face and a glare settled in his eyes. He tapped Derek’s cheek and turned from him.

“You know, it might be safer if you wear my pants, too,” Derek said and Jackson’s back went rigid. “Really bathe in my scent.”

“Derek,” Stiles called up, barely able to keep the laugh from his voice. “Did you forget what Zeus did to that hunter that tried to attack me?”

Jackson looked over his shoulder and laughed when Derek flinched, but closed his door. “ _Ártemis, Días, éla_ ,” he called and went to the bedroom, letting them arrange themselves on his bed. Settling between the two large dogs, Jackson stared up at the ceiling. He fell asleep quickly, enjoying the scent of Derek around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey! Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Now, a word to the sponsors!
> 
> Reddy_no_1: I would suggest not refreshing religiously like that. While I'm good, I'm not that good. I think it's safe to say that Derek does know about it. I hadn't really thought of that, until you mentioned it. But, I think this chapter explained a little on how Derek knew what he did. I also hope you enjoyed this chapter and can't wait for your next comment!
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: That comment made me laugh so much! But to be fair, who doesn't like a pretty boy from time to time? I mean, honestly, Jackson admitting anything except that he's the best is going to take time. Admitting that he's attracted to a werewolf, something he believes is beneath him? It makes for some great sexual tension. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Bernard: Estoy usando un traductor, así que espero que esto funcione bien. Ahora, todavía no tengo un socio para Stiles. Estoy pensando en Peter, pero estará muy en segundo plano. ¡Gracias por tu comentario y los corazones! ¡Amo los corazones! ¡Espero saber de ti otra vez!
> 
> Guest1701: Yes, I know. I'm sorry. It took a while for me to have a reason for Jackson to lower his magic and reveal his colors to others. He was told from a young age to never let his colors show and he took that to heart. I hope this chapter explained some of the other questions you had. There will be more explanations later on, of course. Until then, I hope to hear from you again!
> 
> To those that left kudos, thanks a bunch!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	8. The Collectors

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

“It’s time to get up.”

Jackson groaned and rolled over, hugging Artemis to him. “Not yet,” he whined. His bed was warm and the dream that was still clinging to the edge of his memory was nice.

The next time the voice sounded, it was right in his ear. “Jackson.”

Opening his eyes and making sure his magic was in place, Jackson turned his head and found Derek gazing down at him. He nodded and stretched his legs, before he rolled onto his back and Derek stepped away from the bed, as though waiting for him to fall asleep again. Jackson sat up and stretched his arms in front of him, before scratching his chest and frowning at the material under his fingers.

Looking down at the shirt, Jackson frowned and then looked at Derek. Whispers of the previous night came back to him and he nodded, finally remembering why he was wearing one of Derek’s shirts. He needed the werewolf’s scent on him, if he was going to hide from The Collectors. Swallowing, Jackson snapped his fingers and his dogs stepped off the bed, stretching out their bodies. Jackson sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his neck.

Without waiting for their command, his dogs left the room and Jackson stood up, rubbing his eyes. He blinked and gazed at the door. His dogs wouldn’t leave without a command, unless he had been asleep a lot longer than he thought. He grabbed his phone and checked the date, his eyes widening.

“I’ve been asleep for _two_ days?” he demanded and glared at Derek. The werewolf shrugged and Jackson sighed. Nothing that happened a couple of nights ago was anything he wasn’t used to. Okay, maybe torturing someone for nearly an hour before putting them out of his misery was new. He wouldn’t have done it, if she hadn’t gone after Derek, though. Maybe he was a little emotionally scarred from that.

“We tried to wake you, but your dogs kept us away. I think they knew you needed the sleep more than food or a shower.”

Jackson closed his eyes and removed the shirt he wore, shoving it into Derek’s chest as he walked out of the bedroom and went to the bathroom. He showered quickly, grateful to finally smell like himself again. That spicy-sweet musk of a werewolf wasn’t really his vibe. He definitely preferred his own fresh scent. The downside was he knew he needed to keep Derek’s scent on him, which just annoyed him.

Out of the shower, Jackson dressed his lower half in jeans and shoes, stepping out of the bathroom and using the towel to dry his hair. He kicked Derek’s bedroom door, not surprised when Derek opened it and glared at him. Jackson dropped the towel over a shoulder and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Was Derek waiting for an engraved invitation? Jackson could make that happen.

“I need a shirt,” Jackson said and realized that Derek was staring at his torso. His eyes followed the long, silver scar from his clavicle to his hip. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

Derek’s eyes snapped to Jackson’s. He said nothing as he turned around and grabbed a shirt, tossing it to Jackson and practically slamming the door in his face. Jackson blinked a few times, surprised at the rudeness of the werewolf. He scoffed and pulled on the shirt, going downstairs for something to eat. He was absolutely starving, to the point that he almost couldn’t keep his eyes one color.

In the kitchen, Stiles was watching Artemis and Zeus eat their breakfast. He had a lazy smile on his face and Jackson realized Peter’s scent was strong on him. It seemed that Peter had loaned the metal wolf a shirt of his, as well. Stiles’ eyes drifted over to him and his smile stretched, going back to watching the dogs. Jackson was just grateful that Stiles was no longer scared or jealous of them.

“Peter and Talia have gone to see the Argents and Laura and Cora are going around town, scenting people. Those without scents have their physical descriptions taken, so we can check them out,” Stiles explained, finally looking away from the dogs and giving Jackson his undivided attention. “Are you okay?”

Jackson sighed and grabbed a bowl of fruit salad from the fridge. He sat beside Stiles and groaned quietly. “I thought I was,” he answered as he ate the fruit quickly. He moaned softly, finally feeling food in his stomach. “I don’t think I’m cut out for torture.”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow. “No, you definitely are. It wasn’t the torture that had you emotionally drained, Jacks. The sooner you admit it, the sooner you can move on and actually have some fun with Sourwolf upstairs.”

Jackson shot a quick glare at Stiles. The stool he was on jerked forward, crushing Stiles’ abdomen into the edge of the counter, before it pulled away. Stiles groaned. “Only the Hales are immune to my magic, Stiles,” Jackson reminded him with a smile. “Drop it.”

“Oh…Ugh…I am not gonna do that,” Stiles wheezed and massaged his bruised ribs. “See what I mean, though? You have no issue with torture…which is strange for a snow wolf.”

Jackson licked the juice of the cantaloupe from his lips and smirked. “Just remember that I’m also a healer. There’s a reason Kate lasted so long last night.”

Stiles stared at Jackson, eyes wide and his pain forgotten. “Fuck, Jackson. You are definitely a scary dude when you wanna be,” he said and inched away from him. “I didn’t think a vegetarian could be so…evil.”

“The bitch had it coming,” Jackson snapped and finished the fruit. “ _Ártemis, peripolía_.” Artemis raised her head and slipped out the backdoor. “ _Día, fýlaka_.” Zeus tilted his head and sat up, staring out the kitchen entrance.

Stiles tilted his head and frowned as Jackson placed a hand on him. He blinked as the pain disappeared. “What language do you speak with them?”

Jackson grinned. “They were a gift from Vincent.”

Stiles frowned and looked at Zeus. “I didn’t know you could speak Greek,” he said and Jackson shrugged. “There’s a lot I still don’t know about you, isn’t there?”

“Probably,” Jackson answered and lowered his eyes. “I don’t…trust people easily.”

“That’s fair. Peter told me what happened to your parents. I’m sorry, man.”

“That’s my first and only memory of them,” Jackson said and felt Stiles’ shocked eyes on him. “I thought it was a nightmare and told David and Diana about it. They told me it was a memory. I remember some monster gutting my mother and ripping me from her womb.” He tightened his jaw, glaring at the counter. He sighed and glanced at Stiles. “How did you lose your mom?”

Stiles dropped his eyes, running a finger over the countertop. “Hunters,” he answered and sighed. “They tracked her from Poland and managed to kill her. They turned to me, about to finish me off when this _dragon_ drops from the sky and just sets them on fire. In seconds, they’re nothing but ash that’s blowing away on the wind. The dragon shifts into a man and apologizes to me. He says he’s sorry that he was late.”

“Shit,” Jackson breathed and rested his shoulder against Stiles’. “That’s harsh, man. I’m sorry.”

“For a couple years, I did blame that dragon. I just kept saying, if only he got there sooner. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I learned he was hunted and injured when he arrived.” Stiles shook his head and wiped his eyes. “He became my best friend for a little while, until I moved here.”

“You got Dmitri, didn’t you?” Stiles nodded. “Did he give you the speech about The Collectors or having to hide who you are?”

“I’m a metal wolf,” Stiles said, staring at Jackson. “As you said, I’m one of three. I’m not the last of my kind.”

Jackson glanced out the kitchen entrance as Derek came downstairs. He nodded at Stiles and dropped his eyes. “I’d kill to be a metal wolf.”

Stiles smiled and nodded. Jackson shifted on the stool as it seemed warmer than usual. He hissed and jumped to his feet, stepping over Zeus. He frowned at Stiles as the floor under his feet warmed and stepped to the side. He had no idea what Stiles was doing, especially as they had literally just bonded over dead parents and messed up dragon mentors.

A grin stretched over Stiles’ face and Jackson’s eyes widened when a funnel of fire came at him. He raised a wall of ice and skidded back as the collision forced him back. Narrowing his eyes, Jackson lowered his hands, flurries swirling above his palms as he tilted his head. The floor heated under his feet again and he narrowed his eyes, stepping back.

“Do I need to freeze your core?”

Stiles laughed and rushed at Jackson, without any magic. He shoved Jackson back and ran out of the kitchen, which had Jackson’s eyes widening. The magic vanished from his hands and he turned his head. His back was against something solid and he jerked away from Derek, glaring at the werewolf. He should have known that Stiles would do something like that. Jackson glared at the floor, waiting for Derek to move.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Jackson hissed. He sighed and looked up when Derek’s eyes didn’t leave him. “What?”

Derek glanced down for a moment and Jackson frowned. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that Derek almost seemed bashful. Looking at Zeus, Derek shook his head and stepped into the kitchen, making coffee. Jackson shivered. He was getting tired of that. He snapped his fingers and Zeus followed him into the living room. He had no doubt that the meeting with the Argents wouldn’t go well.

\--

“You’re admitting to torturing a hunter?”

Jackson stared at the male hunter that was sitting at the table, a look of pure shock on his face. “Yep.”

As he had expected, the hunters weren’t too pleased to hear Jackson say he had tortured one of their own. They didn’t even fully believe that the Hale pack was housing shifters, until Stiles showed his colors. That had shut them up and Stiles had offered to share his memories, up until the torture when he got Derek back home. Chris glanced uneasily at the dogs that growled at him when he moved slightly.

Jackson assumed he could have started by explaining why he tortured a hunter. He assumed there was a lot he could have done, aside from grin at the hunter. He wasn’t a bad person, but anyone that could breed Kate Argent and not keep an eye on her had something wrong with them. Jackson knew Chris wasn’t to blame, but there was part of him that wanted to blame someone for what Kate had done.

“Okay,” Chris said and rubbed his temples. He sighed when the dogs snarled at him for moving. “Can you call off your dogs?”

Jackson glanced at his pets and then returned his bored eyes to Chris. “Nope.”

Before Chris could say anything, the werewolves, shifters and dogs turned their head towards the backdoor of the kitchen. Someone was running towards them, which had them glancing at each other. As far as they knew, everyone that was relevant was at the house. Jackson’s eyes widened when Scott ran into the house. As he opened his mouth to call Zeus off, Chris, Peter, Derek and Stiles groaned as Zeus attached his teeth to the most sensitive part of the male anatomy.

“Who teaches their dog something like that?” Chris demanded as Scott’s face froze in silent agony.

“A dragon, apparently,” Jackson answered and smirked when Chris stared at him. “Zeus, _elefthérosi_.” Zeus released Scott and growled at him.

Scott groaned and collapsed to his knees. “What the hell, Jackson?” he demanded as his healing kicked in. “Why wouldn’t you give that command sooner?”

“Why would you come crashing through the backdoor, instead of knocking on the front?” Jackson shot back as Scott stood up.

“Allison said you _tortured_ her aunt! Do you have any idea how upset she is? I wanted to know if that was true or not.” Scott looked at the ruined crotch of his jeans.

Jackson crossed his arms and sat back in the chair, gazing at Scott. “How does that concern you? What I do to a hunter that was drugging and raping my protector is my business.” He narrowed his eyes and Scott was flung through the kitchen door, landing heavily outside.

Chris leaned forward to look through the door, frowning. He turned his attention back to Jackson. “I’m sorry, she did what? That doesn’t sound like Kate. I can’t see any reason why she would want to hurt the Hale pack. You’ve done nothing to us.”

Talia lowered her eyes for a moment, thinking on her words. “Kate didn’t know about us,” she said and raised her eyes. “Somehow, we escaped her field of vision. It wasn’t until she met Derek while he was at college that she realized he was different.”

“I showed her the memories,” Stiles said as Chris narrowed his eyes. “She didn’t know about them. Was there a reason she didn’t know about the Hale pack?”

Chris shrugged. “She didn’t spend much time in town. She was usually hunting, spending most of her time in Canada. I honestly thought she knew about the Hale pack.”

“There’s also another problem she caused,” Jackson said and smiled when Chris looked at him, his dogs growling in warning. “She brought in The Collectors, for me and Stiles. We’re both protected breeds.”

Chris’s eyes widened. “Why wasn’t I told about that? I should’ve been informed the moment two protected breeds came to the town. I might’ve been able to do something about The Collectors.”

“You’re being told now,” Peter said with a shrug, as Scott finally came back into the house. “We didn’t know that one of your family would go cuckoo for Coco Puffs and bring in a specialized unit of shifter hunters.” His eyes slid to Derek for a moment and Jackson growled.

Derek was already punished enough for his involvement. He was the one that had to live with the knowledge that he was responsible for Kate getting the information she needed. Thankfully, Derek was able to keep Jackson’s breed a secret from her, but that didn’t matter. The Collectors already knew about him. Plus, what she did to him was monstrous and Jackson felt the urge to bring her back to life and torture her all over again.

Peter returned his eyes to Chris, leaving Derek alone, who continued to stare at the ground. Jackson glanced at him, seeing him digging his claws into his palm. _Calm down._ Derek gritted his teeth and glared at Jackson, who raised an eyebrow at him. _I can’t push you away, remember? You think you can ditch me that easily?_ The anger left Derek’s eyes and Jackson smirked.

“All right,” Chris said and sat back, sighing when Artemis bared her teeth. “What is with these dogs?”

“You do realize that dogs can smell the familial tie between you and Kate, right?” Laura asked, an eyebrow cocked. She petted Zeus and smiled at him. “Besides, they’re good dogs.”

“Give me the memories you took from Kate…Stiles,” Chris added when Jackson’s smirk got a little twisted.

Jackson huffed and sat back as Stiles stood beside Chris. His eyes flashed vivid gold and Chris’s pale eyes widened as he saw everything Stiles had taken from Kate’s mind. Jackson tilted his head when the gold left Stiles’ eyes and he stood beside Peter. Chris panted, staring up at the ceiling for a long while, his heart racing erratically in his chest. His mind battled, clearly trying to understand what he saw and believe his sister was actually responsible for everything.

“Jesus,” Chris breathed and blinked, wiping his eyes. He sniffed and glanced at Stiles, who had his head bowed. “I’m sorry you had to see that, kid.” Stiles nodded and Jackson knew it was almost impossible to not transfer emotions when exchanging memories. “I didn’t see any signs of her being insane.”

“Wait, so Jackson didn’t torture her for no reason?” Scott asked and Jackson glared at him.

“I think Zeus biting your dick made you think with your normal brain,” Jackson snapped. “I might have to get him to bite you there more often. I don’t torture hunters for fun. Though, if they’re anything like Kate, I might make it a habit.”

Talia stared at Jackson. “You are definitely nothing like what your breed says you’re meant to be like.” She shook her head as Jackson shrugged. “We need your help with The Collectors, Chris,” she said softly. “We don’t want to start a war between werewolves and shifter hunters.”

Chris nodded and drank his coffee, eyes on Jackson. “Kate’s memories were focused mostly on you. Why?”

Jackson lowered his eyes. “You saw her memories. You know why she was after me. It was to hurt my protector and because she would get a cut of the payments for me and Stiles.”

“Yeah, I got that, kid. Why do The Collectors want you so desperately that they would send a werewolf hunter after you? And give her an alpha werewolf to command? Not to mention, she was practically counting the dollar signs for you. What makes you so special?”

Jackson jerked slightly as Derek’s hand rested on his neck. Talia’s hand rested on his shoulder and Jackson felt like a child. He had two werewolves standing beside him protectively, as though ready to kill a hunter. The tension in the room was rising and Jackson raised his head, staring at Scott. That was someone he didn’t trust in the slightest. Chris at least had some integrity. Scott had no code or rules to abide by and could do whatever he wanted.

_I can take care of him._ Jackson’s eyes went to Stiles, who was also staring at Scott. With a stiff nod, Jackson returned his attention to Chris and dropped his magic. Chris’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he stared at the swirling azure and silver eyes of Jackson. After a few seconds, Jackson brought his magic back up and Scott blinked, looking slightly confused.

“Holy shit,” Chris breathed and stood up. “I’ll infiltrate their base, pretending that I was working with Kate. We’ll take them out. This goes just beyond shifters and werewolves. This involves a hierarchy that none of us want to deal with, should anything happen to Jackson.”

The hand on his neck tightened and Jackson relaxed under the pressure. He called his dogs to his sides and Chris edged around them, especially Zeus. His hands were in front of his groin protectively, until he was out of the kitchen. Talia walked him out to his car and Jackson slumped in the chair. That had been the most painful thing he ever did. Showing his colors to a werewolf hunter, someone he wasn’t sure he could trust.

“What am I doing here?” Scott asked with a frown. “Why is there blood on my crotch?”

Jackson stared at Stiles, raising his eyebrows. Stiles shrugged. “This is literally my first time altering memories,” he said and huffed when Jackson smiled.

\--

Later that night, Jackson sat on Derek’s bed as the werewolf stared out his window. Jackson was feeling completely drained after the meeting with Chris. Derek had refused to let Zeus into his bedroom, terrified that Jackson would give him the command to castrate him. Artemis laid beside the bed, as Derek refused to let her on the bed, which just had Jackson rolling his eyes. His dogs were impeccably groomed.

“You have got to stop blaming yourself, Hale,” Jackson said and Derek’s shoulders tensed. “It wasn’t your fault. You were literally a means to an end.”

“Why would she want you and Stiles out of the way?”

“You don’t want to know,” Jackson said and lowered his eyes. “No good can come from knowing what she planned to do to you and your family.” He flinched at the idea. He could think of a hundred other ways to kill off a family and none of them included burning them. That was just a horrible way to kill someone.

“I just don’t understand what we did to her,” Derek said softly and turned around. He stared at Jackson. “She didn’t come after me because I’m your protector.”

Jackson’s eyes widened for a moment, before he glared at Derek and stood up. “I’m not listening to this shit from you, Hale.”

“You’re my mate, Jackson,” Derek stated.

Jackson froze at the door to the room and frowned. Stiles had said that shifter mates carry the other’s scars, so they would always remember what they fought for. Jackson was fighting for his right to be free from everything around him. The sooner he got out of California, the safer everyone would be. The Collectors would follow him, wanting the price tag attached to his heart.

Biting his lower lip, Jackson looked at Derek. He had pushed that werewolf away the hardest, since the beginning. He didn’t want Derek to like him or even tolerate him, because he knew what would happen. Some part of his mind knew he would care about Derek in a way he didn’t care about the others. Vincent had told him to protect Stiles and he would continue to do that.

As though knowing what he was thinking, Derek was across the room in two steps. He pulled Jackson to him, holding him tightly. Jackson tensed in the strong arms of Derek, trying to understand what was happening. He didn’t want to know why it felt so good, why it felt right. He didn’t want to know why he felt Derek’s heartbeat throughout his entire body, going right down to his toes.

Just before he could consider hugging Derek back, he pulled away and frowned. Derek raised his head. Something was coming towards them and would be on the house in a matter of seconds. It was a sound neither of them were familiar with, but Stiles burst through the door, his eyes wide.

“There’s a dragon coming,” he hissed and Jackson’s eyes widened.

“They couldn’t…could they?”

Stiles swallowed thickly and shrugged. “They collect. I’d be more surprised if they didn’t have a dragon-shifter under them.”

“Shit.” Jackson groaned and closed his eyes. He sighed and opened them. “Hale, you stay here. Stiles, keep him safe. I’ll try to lure it away.”

Derek’s eyes widened and he caught Jackson’s arm. “That’s not happening, Jackson.”

“You’re a _werewolf_ , Hale. You’re not a threat to a dragon. It won’t kill me, because I’m worth a lot more alive.” Jackson smiled without any real confidence. He was mostly guessing and praying he was right. “Stiles will keep you safe. _I Ártemis, o Días, ta prostatévei_.”

Jackson ran from the room and down the stairs. Outside, he shifted into his wolf form and shook his fur. In the sky, he saw the remarkable form of the dragon. The animal appeared more like a European dragon, a broad body with an impressive wingspan. The dragon roared and Jackson tilted his head to the side, seeing the large claws on the paws of the animal. Those would cause some serious damage.

As he thought, the dragon flew over the house and hovered above him. Jackson saw a bronze collar around the thick, scaled neck that had spells etched on it. “Come and get me, you overgrown lizard,” Jackson called up to it and turned tail, running through the trees.

He dodged to the left as lightning streaked through the trees. His eyes were wide, but he could tell he was being followed. The hunters had sent a freaking dragon out after him. He figured the poor creature was told to retrieve instead of kill, but the lightning that was being fired at him had him believing otherwise. The raw power that the dragon was breathing shattered the walls of ice Jackson raised.

His eyes widened when the dragon overtook him and landed, creating a new clearing in the preserve. Slowing, Jackson moved behind trees, crouching down when a long, thick tail swung around. The vicious looking barbs on the end crackled with electricity and Jackson raised his head, staring at the backend of the dragon. The copper scales reflected teal and orange.

The dragon spun around, breathing fire and Jackson raised ice. Steam filled the area and Jackson used it to create a blizzard around them. The dragon roared, the heat of its body melting the snowflakes and causing it to sink into the snow gathering on the ground. It worked as Jackson wanted it to. The dragon was blinded by the snow, but there wasn’t anything he could do against a dragon. He was just a wolf.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jackson created a perfect double of himself and let that run around the dragon. It would keep the giant creature busy for a few minutes, possibly even capture it. He would have time to get back to the house and… He had no idea what he would do, but he would do something.

Turning from the dragon, Jackson made his way back to the house. As he entered through the front door, he shifted into his human form and froze, turning towards the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw four hunters in there, waiting for him. Derek was on his knees, a silver machete to his throat. Jackson growled and narrowed his eyes, flashing vivid azure.

“Uh-uh! I feel anything and this goes through his heart,” the hunter behind Derek warned. The blue died from Jackson’s eyes and he heard a smirk in the hunter’s voice. “Good boy.”

Jackson entered the kitchen and found that his dogs were trapped in an electrocuted net. His eyes widened and he glared at the hunters. “What do you want?”

The hunter laughed. “You know exactly what we want, snow wolf,” he said. “Don’t play dumb with us.” He stabbed the machete through Derek’s back and Jackson screamed, holding his abdomen. Derek gritted his teeth and the hunter tilted his head. “Oh. He’s your mate.”

The hunter to Jackson’s left stepped closer and Jackson grabbed them, snapping the neck and letting the body fall to the floor. The hunter behind Derek removed the machete and placed it to the werewolf’s throat, tilting his head as he watched Jackson. He almost seemed impressed with Jackson, which wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

“You’re a fighter,” the hunter said and chuckled. “That’s a first for a snow wolf. They’re usually pacifists.”

Jackson dropped to a knee as the machete was thrust through Derek’s back again, closer to his heart. The hunter on Jackson’s right moved closer and he growled, shoving his hand through the chest and ripping out the heart. “You’re running out of hunters,” he said and grinned, which faltered when he noticed that Derek was struggling to breathe.

“Wolfsbane, silver and werewolf don’t mix together very well,” the hunter said and threw Derek to the side. He beckoned the last hunter forward and Jackson’s eyes widened when he found that Stiles was unconscious. “Your pets were tough to get through. But we managed to get this one.”

“Wait,” Jackson said and stood up. “Let me save him.” He nodded at Derek. “And you leave him behind.” He nodded at Stiles. “And I’ll go with you, without a fight.”

The hunter tilted his head, as though giving serious consideration to the offer. “You can save him,” he said and kicked Derek closer to Jackson. “But we take you and the metal wolf back with us.”

Jackson glanced at Stiles and then Derek, who was staring at him. Jackson knew what he was thinking, but he would be damned if he was going to let Talia lose her only son. He knew that if he was with Stiles, they would have a better chance of escaping than if he was alone. He also knew that the werewolves wouldn’t stop until both of them were back at the house.

Derek drew in a strangled gasp and Jackson blinked, not caring that tears were falling from his eyes. “Deal,” he said and dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Derek and covered the werewolf’s mouth with his own.

His magic buzzed through his body and the room was encased in a blinding light that passed from Jackson to Derek. He pulled back, not feeling his head. He heard Derek gasp and sit up, staring at him. The hunter grabbed a cast iron skillet and cracked Derek across the back of the head, before slinging Jackson over his shoulder. As long as Derek was alive, Jackson was fine with whatever happened to him. When he had the energy, he was going to make their lives a living hell.

\--

When Jackson opened his eyes, he was in a white cell. He sat up and frowned around, tilting his head. As strange as it sounded, he could barely hear himself think in that room. The white walls and floor almost seemed too loud, which made no sense. He placed his hand on the floor, slapping it. There was no sound and he looked at the door, seeing a viewer slide open.

The door opened and Jackson frowned when he didn’t hear the latch. There was no sound at all around him, as though his ears were blocked. His vision didn’t seem as defined as it usually was and he froze, hands going to his neck. He felt the metal collar there, which he knew would be etched with Corinthian spells to keep him as human as possible, making it impossible for him to hide his colors.

Someone stepped into the cell and crouched down. He removed his mask and Jackson glared at the handsome face of his hunter. His blue eyes were pale and cold. His blond hair had clipped short back and sides, the top spiked up. The sleeveless shirt he wore showed off his muscular arms, reminding Jackson that he could cause a lot of damage without killing him, should he try to fight back.

“Your mate has pretty tastes,” the hunter said and Jackson growled. “Uh-uh, snow wolf. Down.”

Jackson’s eyes widened as he laid flat on his stomach. He hated Corinthian spells! Vincent had taught him about them, as they were the only spells that could control any kind of shifter. He was taught about them, so he could avoid being captured by them. Instead, he had freely offered himself up to the very hunters he was trying to protect Stiles from.

If he remembered what Vincent told him, the creator of the spells dying would break the hold on all under the same spell. Jackson had no idea if this hunter would be that lazy, but he seemed arrogant enough to believe none of the shifters would be a threat to him, as long as he kept them chained to him. All he could do was pray that that was true. It was the only thing he could think of to save Stiles.

“Where’s my brother?” Jackson demanded and tilted his head back.

“The cute metal wolf?” the hunter asked and tilted his head. “He’s being viewed, as we speak.”

“You’re an idiot for taking us,” Jackson stated and smirked.

The hunter laughed and stood. “Up.” Jackson gritted his teeth as he got to his feet. The hunter approached him, circling him. He wanted to jerk away from the hands that ran over his body, touching the scars. “I suppose it’s a good thing the buyers only care about your heart.” The hunter sniffed along his neck. “Mm. Snow shifters always smell delicious.”

Jackson growled. “You’re going to regret this.” He was able to flinch as he felt the hands on his waist and a tongue on the back of his neck.

“Do you really think we don’t know about what protects you?” The hunter chuckled against Jackson’s neck. “We know about the demon that protects you. Be aroused.” The hunter moved around and frowned as Jackson stared at him.

“I have a mate,” Jackson stated. “Not even a spell can make me hard for you.” The hunter shrugged. “And what demon protects me?” He growled when the hunter touched the scar running across his torso.

“Your dragon mentor didn’t tell you about him?” The hunter chuckled. “Well, he can’t help you. You came with us willingly and we made sure this place was demon-proof. Sit.”

Jackson gasped as he fell to his ass and gritted his teeth. “Maybe you should work on making it werewolf proof.”

“Werewolves are no match for our dogs,” the hunter said and crouched in front of Jackson. “Tell me your name, pretty wolf.”

“Jackson Whittemore,” he answered through clenched teeth.

“And the names of your dogs?”

Jackson wanted to jerk his head away from the thumb that was running along his lower lip. “Artemis and Zeus.”

“They’re good dogs. You’ve protected them well.” The hunter took hold of Jackson’s jaw. “If you be a good wolf, I’ll even let you say goodbye to them, before I carve your heart from your chest.” Jackson’s eyes flashed and his hand shot up, wrapping around the hunter’s throat. “Oh, wow. You’re definitely a fighter. You love those dogs very much. No.”

Jackson gritted his teeth as his hand dropped by his side. The moment he got that collar off, he was going to enjoy torturing that hunter. Until then, he could try to play sweet. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Q,” the hunter said and stood up. “Up.” Jackson growled as he stood. “Follow me.”

Jackson frowned as he walked a step behind Q. He stepped out into the hallway and his eyes widened when he saw cell doors lining the walls. He knew the hunters would want to sell him and Stiles off as quickly as possible, so they could get out of the town before a threat found them. He had no idea how many shifters were there, though. That was the part that worried him the most.

The hallways looked the same, all of them white. There were no numbers on the doors and nothing to make them different from their neighbor. His eyes focused on the other hunters that were walking the hallways. They had their masks on, which covered their scents. Jackson couldn’t even use his sense of smell to his advantage. All he could smell was some aftershave the hunter used and the spearmint gum he was chewing. He also detested the way the other hunters stared at him, like he was just a payday for them.

Q stopped suddenly and Jackson frowned, looking around him and his eyes widened. He went up to the window and found that Stiles was standing in the center of a round room. He had the same silver collar around his neck and Jackson almost sense the defeat in him. He had failed his brother so badly. There was a counter behind Stiles, which was ticking upwards.

“Looks like he’ll sell for under seven million. That’s disappointing.”

Jackson placed his hands on the glass, tears stinging his eyes. His heart thudded in his chest painfully as Stiles raised his head and looked around, as though he could feel Jackson close by. _I’m sorry, Stiles._ There wasn’t a flicker of recognition in the swirling ruby-gold eyes. Jackson’s nails dragged on the glass, cutting into it as his anger spiked with the numbers behind Stiles.

“Oh, maybe we will get to seven million.” Q smirked as Jackson glared at him through his tears. “You’ll be worth it, though.”

“Not if I kill you first,” Jackson said and Q laughed.

“I’d love to see you try, pretty wolf.”

Jackson smirked. “You’re an idiot.”

Q’s eyes widened as Jackson grabbed him. “Stop!”

Jackson growled as he was forced to release Q. He would find a way of killing that damn hunter. He didn’t care if he died in the process. In fact, he was hoping to die in the process. At least that way he could go out with a final ‘fuck you’ to The Collectors.

Turning his eyes back to the room, Jackson closed his eyes as he saw that Stiles was over seven million. He gritted his teeth when Q turned his head and glared at the man. “I’m gonna make you cry before you’re put in front of the cameras. We could probably double any payment if the buyers see how pretty you are when you cry.” He turned Jackson’s head around again, forcing him to look at the numbers for Stiles. “We’re coming down to the final minute. Watch.”

Jackson tried to close his eyes. He didn’t want to see how much his brother sold for. As the seconds moved down, the numbers slowed and Jackson tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Stiles looked over his shoulder, seeing his price when a buzzer sounded. Seven million and a hundred thousand for a metal wolf. Stiles appeared insulted by the number and glared around him.

“That’s bullshit! I’m a damn metal wolf, you broke ass bitches.”

Jackson laughed, wishing he had that kind of attitude towards being sold off. He was completely terrified about what would happen after the auction. Stiles would use his final breath to make some sassy remark and whoever purchased his heart got a deal for it. There was unlimited courage in that muscle. The least he could do was face his fate like the damn wolf-shifter he was.

“You’re next,” Q whispered and pulled Jackson to his side. He walked around the room and Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw Jackson. Their hands met for a second, before they were torn apart.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson shouted.

“I love you, Jacks!”

Q laughed and pulled Jackson into the center of the room. “Stay.” Jackson lowered his eyes, staring at the floor. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Q said and grinned, gesturing to Jackson. “We have a treat for you tonight. Raise your eyes.” Jackson’s jaw clenched as he looked up and found a camera in front of him. “Behold the last snow wolf in existence. Bidding will start at ten million, US dollars. There will be fifteen minutes.”

Jackson glared into the camera and then down at the screen that showed him. His eyes really stood out against his pale skin, which somehow made the silver brighter and the blue deeper. He blinked back at the camera. “Let’s do this, you gutless fuck knuckles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Now, a word to the sponsors!
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: Yes, it would be nice, wouldn't it? They are very slowly working towards that, but I also agree. It's gonna take some time before Derek is free of sexual frustration. Maybe he could just run it off, instead of letting it fester in his clothing. Thank you for your comment and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Reddy_no_1: Derek not looking for death? That's insane! Though, to be fair, I don't think Jackson would ever let death come to Derek, at the mouths of his dogs. I think he would just be happy for Zeus to take a few nibbles, just so Derek knew who he belonged to. Thank you for you comment and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Guest1701: Yes, all the doggos! I know what you mean. I have a Maremma and while he's a pain in the behind, he's such a great dog. He's so gentle and loving around the kids that visit. They're really wonderful companions. Thanks for you comment! I hope this answered some questions and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Bernard: ¡Hola! Gracias por el comentario y estoy muy feliz de que todavía te guste la historia. Espero que este capítulo haya sido de su agrado y gracias por esos corazones!
> 
> To those that left kudos, thanks a bunch! I hope you're enjoying the updates, as well!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	9. Rescue

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

Derek growled as he paced the kitchen, running his hands through his hair. He couldn’t believe that both Jackson’s and Stiles’ scents had vanished. The Collectors had taken the dogs, as well, which was something that pained Derek more than he would admit. His mother and Peter had returned from the Argents’ house. Laura and Cora were patrolling, but had been rendered unconscious. When they returned to the house, Derek had to explain how he failed so thoroughly that it hurt to speak.

All he could remember was Jackson agreeing to him and Stiles being taken by the hunters, as long as he could heal Derek. He could feel something coursing through his veins that seemed to make him think he was invincible. He was stuck in that house, though. The idea of going to the warehouse where his mother had tracked the alpha to crossed his mind. It was quickly shoved aside. He doubted The Collectors would remain there.

They would want to move the shifters as quickly as possible. They would have somewhere secure, somewhere that no one would question them. That could be anywhere in Beacon Hills, though. There were so many places for them to hide out. All Derek knew for certain was that Jackson and Stiles would be auctioned off, the funds transferred while the hunters moved them somewhere else and then their hearts would be removed.

Derek growled when Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes sparkled blue and Peter sighed, stepping back from him. Derek continued to pace the kitchen, glaring at his blood that was still on the floor. Jackson had given up his life, if it meant that Derek could live. He had given up the life of him and Stiles, if it meant that Derek could live. What the hell did he have to live for, if his mate was sold off and then killed?

“Fuck!” Derek shouted and slammed his fists on the breakfast counter. His eyes widened when it crumbled. There was barely any pain in his hands and he was certain it hadn’t hit it that hard. “I’m sorry.”

Talia pulled Derek into a hug, stroking the back of his neck. “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Derek held her tightly, trying not to think that he was about to lose something else he cared about. His mind went to the summer before he lost Paige. The way Jackson and Stiles had looked at him like they knew some tragedy was coming. He had taken her life, just to ease her suffering. Now, he was losing Jackson for something else that was out of his control.

“I can’t lose him, too, Mom,” Derek whispered and closed his eyes, his hold tightening. He jerked back when he heard bones cracking and his mother hissing.

“Derek, what happened?” Talia asked, rubbing her ribs as they healed. “All you said was that The Collectors took Jackson and Stiles. How? Jackson could kill them without moving.”

His claws grew as he glared at the ground. “One of them threatened to kill me if Jackson did anything.” Derek raised his eyes. “He stabbed me, twice. Wolfsbane coated silver. Jackson offered up himself to save me and leave Stiles behind. They wanted him and Stiles and he agreed. He…kissed me, I think. Everything healed and it felt like new life was breathed into me.”

Talia looked at Peter, her eyes wide. Peter nodded and Derek frowned. They knew something and before he could get angry with them, Talia smiled and returned her eyes to him. “Jackson gave you half of his lifeforce.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what that means.”

“I don’t know everything it entails, but you’re stronger and faster than you were before,” Talia said gently and Derek frowned.

“You are immortal,” an unknown voice said and the werewolves turned to the table. A pale stranger sat there, pouring tea into four cups. He raised his eyes, which appeared black and had an edge of sorrow to them. “Jackson gave up half of his immortality for you.”

“Who are you?” Talia asked, standing in front of Derek.

“My apologies, Alpha Hale. My name is Tsuki Kurenai and I am the demon protecting Jackson.” The stranger stood and extended his hand to Talia. She frowned and hesitantly took the hand. “I know where they are keeping Jackson and Stiles, but they have warded it against me.”

“Where are they?” Derek and Peter demanded, stepping closer to the table.

Tsuki looked between them, face apathetic. “You cannot go there, Peter,” he said and sipped his tea. “The only one I will take is Derek. He is the only one that can withstand everything The Collectors throw at him.”

“He’s still a werewolf,” Talia said with a hard edge to her voice. “I will not let you take my son to certain death.”

Tsuki rested his delicate chin on his knuckles as he gazed at Talia. There was something commanding about him, some kind of hidden power that scared Derek. He knew it scared his mother, as she dropped her gaze. There was nothing intimidating in Tsuki’s eyes, but it was the way he held himself that had Derek worried something bad was about to happen.

“Derek has the power of a wolf-shifter in him. He is immune to silver and wolfsbane. His life has been extended by half an eternity,” Tsuki explained calmly and sipped his tea again. “Derek is the only one that can stand up to The Collectors and save them.” He dropped his eyes to his teacup. “The Collectors will still believe him a werewolf and therefore he can take them by surprise.”

Certain death or not, Derek was going with Tsuki. He needed to get the shifters back, since he lost them while he was meant to be protecting them. He doubted Peter would ever let Stiles near him again, at least until he apologize sufficiently for his failure. Images of what was happening to the shifters, in the care of The Collectors had his rage spiking. What kind of torture were they enduring?

A firm hand on his shoulder had Derek glaring at his mother. Talia gave him a small smile, as though she wanted to say something she knew would cut him deeply. He didn’t want to hear it. Peter wouldn’t let him live down this failure and he got the feeling that Jackson would be the same. How could he be a protector if he couldn’t keep two wolf-shifters safe? He highly doubted Vincent would have let the hunters anywhere near the house, let alone have them enter and then use him as a means to barter with.

“I’ll get them back,” Derek promised and Talia’s eyes softened.

“I suggest we leave now, then,” Tsuki said as he checked his phone. “Stiles’ auction will be ending soon. Jackson’s will start immediately after.” He stood and stepped around the table, placing a surprising warm hand on Derek’s shoulder. “When you get in there, do not get injured. They will see the scars appear on Jackson’s body and it will take away your element of surprise.”

Derek nodded and looked at Peter. “I’m sorry, Uncle,” he said quietly and Peter glared at him.

“Just get him back, Derek.”

Before Derek could say anything further, he gasped as the feeling of motion filled him. He closed his eyes as the wind whipped by him, to the point he thought he was going to lose skin from its force. His knotted stomach churned, the insides twisting and threatening to come up violently. The air was snatched from his lungs and when he realized he wasn’t moving, his knees were weak and adrenaline flooded his system. He opened his eyes, seeing that the world was still spinning.

After his senses caught up with the rest of his body, Derek turned around and frowned at the building. It was a repurposed asylum, which was shut down at least sixty years ago. How had no one noticed that it was fixed up and had lights on? As he was rarely in that section of the town, Derek was using that as his excuse. It was nowhere near the warehouse that the alpha led them to, either.

Glancing at Tsuki, Derek raised an eyebrow. Tsuki shook his head and stepped back, looking at his phone as it chimed. “Before I go in there, would you mind telling me why you didn’t step in when Jackson was threatened?”

“This was something that needed to happen,” Tsuki answered as he replied to the text message.

Derek frowned and groaned as his something burned into his mind, closing his eyes as the fire seemed to spread down to his eyelids. He frowned when he saw a path and opened his eyes, staring at Tsuki. The demon said nothing as he vanished and Derek turned to the building, staring at the white door. Inhaling deeply, he pushed open the door and stepped into deafening whiteness.

“What?”

Derek frowned at the hunter standing beside the door. They stared at each other blankly, before Derek’s hand shot out and his claws ripped open the throat. His eyes widened as he saw the blood spurting out of the wounds. He didn’t think he had used that much force. Shaking his head, Derek moved down the hallway, following some unknown thread that was telling him which corners to turn. The hallways looked identical.

His footsteps were somehow muffled, as though the floors and walls ate every sound. He was moving towards the center of the building, frowning as there were far less hunters around than he expected. The hallways were basically empty, aside from some trolleys with plates on them, as though they were forgotten and those doing the rounds were called somewhere else. Derek doubted they knew he had arrived, but he would take that as a good thing.

At the center of the building, he blinked as he saw a round room that had windows looking in. The hunters were gathered around, staring at someone in there. They were speaking excitedly, none of them noticing the stranger amongst them. The stranger that moved through them, breaking their necks and throwing the bodies behind him. The noise was eaten by the strange walls and floor. Even the stench of blood seemed to disappear. None of them put up a fight, all still watching the room.

Derek looked into the room and his eyes widened when he saw Jackson standing in the middle, a hunter by his side. The shifter was glaring ahead of him, barely breathing. Every time he inhaled, the lights glinted off the silver collar around his neck. Movement behind Jackson caught Derek’s eyes and his mouth fell open when he saw the numbers after a dollar sign. He knew that snow wolves were highly sought after, but he didn’t think they would be worth three hundred million.

“We could even retire after we get this one’s heart,” a hunter said and Derek growled quietly, snapping his neck.

The remaining four hunters weren’t a challenge, even though they were aware of Derek. His speed had almost tripled, which was something he wasn’t expecting. He knew the hunters definitely weren’t, as they died with surprised expressions on their faces. When the last one was bleeding out quickly, Derek moved around the windows, keeping his eyes on Jackson. Every so often, Jackson twitched as though he was trying to fight something that was restricting him. The hunter would just laugh and say something, which had Jackson glaring ahead again.

Derek assumed it had something to do with the collar that was on Jackson. He made his way to a door and reached to open it, pausing. His ears twitched and he turned around, gazing down the hallway behind him. There was an open door not far from him and he tilted his head, frowning. He wanted to go to that room and see what was in it, but Jackson was just behind him.

 _Jackson isn’t the only one you need to save._ Derek inhaled shakily. He had forgotten that Stiles was somewhere in that building, as well. He approached the open door and raised an eyebrow when he found Stiles standing in the center, like some kind of bait. Stiles raised his eyes and smiled when he saw Derek, but quickly shook his head. He wasn’t a trap.

Glancing around the cell, Derek frowned when he saw that Stiles was alone. He shook his head and approached the shifter, turning the collar around to find a hinge, some weak point. Stiles’ eyes widened as he saw Derek touching the silver without a problem. It was a complete circle. There was no lock or hinge or anything that Derek could use to his advantage.

“How are you touching this? You’re a werewolf! Silver should be burning the everlasting shit out of you.” Stiles looked over Derek’s shoulder, as though expecting someone to walk in. “What’s going on?”

“Long story short, Jackson gave me half of his lifeforce,” Derek answered and tried to bend the collar. It didn’t budge in the slightest. “What is with this?”

“It’s a Corinthian collar,” Stiles answered and sighed. “The only way it comes off is if the spellcaster is killed.”

“Let me guess,” Derek said and stepped back. “The hunter that’s auctioning Jackson at the moment?”

“If he’s the only one still alive, yeah.” Stiles shrugged. “I’m useless to you. The spells prevent me from using any of my magic, hence why my eyes won’t stay one color.”

Derek nodded and grabbed Stiles’ arm, pulling the shifter behind him. He made his way back to the room where he last saw Jackson, seeing that the price was now over four hundred million, nearing half a billion. Somehow, he always knew that Jackson would be expensive. He just had no idea it would be that much.

He didn’t open the door in front of him. Opening the door on his left, Derek stepped into the room and found a hunter working the computers, which made sure Jackson was being broadcasted to all potential buyers. The man turned around and stared at Derek. He swallowed when Derek smirked. Before his Adam’s apple had even raised again, Derek had broken his neck and was shoving his corpse to the side. He turned to Stiles, seeing the collar disappear from his neck.

“Get as much information as you can about the buyers and then take it down.”

Stiles sat at the computer and his fingers flew over the keyboard. “That’s not gonna happen, Sourwolf. Just get Jackson out of there.”

Derek stepped out of the room and went to open the door, before he tilted his head. He shoved it off the hinges, smirking when the hunter beside Jackson ducked and looked around frantically. It didn’t take him long to realize that something was going wrong with the feed as the camera shut off. Derek entered the room and glared at the man, letting his eyes sparkle blue.

“Oh, how sweet,” the hunter said and laughed. “You really think you can free him? In front of me at all times.”

Derek frowned as Jackson jerked his body to stand in front of the hunter. The building trembled and Derek looked around. As far as he knew that section of California didn’t get earthquakes and the town was too far from the plates to feel any really strong aftershocks. The hunter’s eyes widened as he seemed to know what was happening, but he refused to step around Jackson.

The shifter stared at Derek. “Stiles?”

“Freed,” Derek answered, keeping the hurt from his face and scent when Jackson looked relieved. “You will be, too.”

Jackson shook his head. “He knows he can’t make me fight you, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use me as a shield. Just get Stiles and—”

“No.” Stiles stepped into the room and glared at the hunter behind Jackson. “You forgot about something, Q.”

“Oh? You try anything on me and I remove his heart.” Q draped an arm over Jackson’s shoulder, showing the curved knife in his hand.

Stiles stood beside Derek and smirked. “I could explain it, but I think it would all be Greek to you.”

Jackson’s eyes widened. “ _Ártemis, Días, epíthesi_!”

Derek watched as the two dogs attacked Q from the side. Artemis got her large jaws around his throat and he winced as a thin scar appeared on his chest, where the knife cut Jackson. Zeus broke Q’s leg and went in for his chest. Derek’s eyes widened as the dogs viciously and messily tore the hunter apart. He looked at Jackson, who stood there, appearing bored by the whole ordeal.

The moment the collar disappeared from his neck, Jackson’s eyes stopped swirling and went back to his human shade of blue. Clothing appeared on his body and he turned from Stiles, dropping to his knees and hugging his dogs. Derek raised an eyebrow as Jackson whispered how much he missed them, giving him a moment, as the last time he saw his dogs, they were being electrocuted by a net.

Jackson stood and turned to them, blood from the dogs on his clothing. His eyes drifted over Derek and landed on Stiles. In a second, he had launched himself at the metal wolf, hugging his tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about this, Stiles.”

Derek lowered his eyes as Stiles returned the hug. He glanced at the dogs and sighed. “We should get back to the house. Others will be coming for you two, especially those that feel jilted.”

Jackson and Stiles pulled apart and nodded. Jackson looked at his dogs. “ _Akolouthiste_ ,” he said and the dogs walked behind him as Derek led them out of the building.

Many of the hallways were destroyed, as though explosions had gone off. Derek was going to assume that the hunters he killed had collared other shifters and they decided to get their freedom. As long as they went home and didn’t cause any trouble, Derek didn’t care about the destruction of that place. He was tempted to set it on fire and then piss on the ashes.

Outside, Derek froze as he felt something tingle over his body. It made the hairs on the back of his neck and his arms stand on end. Stiles looked at him and then grinned up at him. “You can sense magic in use,” he explained and Derek frowned. “Wait. How can you sense magic in use?”

Derek blinked as a dark grey Mustang materialized in front of them. It was a newer model than the one Peter owned. He wasn’t going to complain though. He opened the driver door and found the keys in the ignition. Stiles grinned and slipped into the passenger seat, while Jackson and the dogs got in the backseat. The engine purred to life and Derek smirked, feeling the smooth vibrations as he put the car into reverse. It had a strong block under the hood and he couldn’t wait to get his hands into it.

“How can you sense magic?” Stiles asked again and Derek heard Jackson shift uncomfortably in the backseat.

“I gave him half my lifeforce,” Jackson answered and Stiles frowned.

“Oh, yeah. That’s right. Derek told me that. How did I forget something like that?” Stiles turned in the seat and grinned at Jackson. “Have you finally admitted it?”

Derek frowned as he felt the tingle again. He glanced at Stiles and sighed when he saw ice over the metal wolf’s face. He reached over and ripped the mask from Stiles’ face and tossed it into the backseat. “Grow up, Jackson,” he snapped. “It’s pretty obvious since you decided you give up half your lifeforce for me and then surrendered yourself to protect me.”

“I take pity on animals in pain,” Jackson said venomously.

Silence fell over the car, until Stiles sighed and shook his head. “There’s no need to be cruel, Jacks,” he said softly and glanced over his shoulder.

“Oh my god,” Jackson said and Derek frowned, hearing the sadness underlying the anger. “You really don’t understand, do you? I am literally a death sentence to anyone I come into contact with!”

Derek pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the car. He opened the backdoor and pulled Jackson out, slamming the door before the dogs could defend their master. As he expected, Jackson glared at him, as though Derek couldn’t see the tears in his eyes. Snow wolves had very lonely lives and Jackson, for some reason, felt he was doomed to the same life.

“You have a pack, Jackson.”

“You’re right, I do. And if you don’t back off, I will release them on you,” Jackson warned and Derek sighed. “Oh, you’re exasperated? Imagine how I feel, Sparky. I had to give up half my lifeforce because you couldn’t take out a couple of hunters!”

“You didn’t have to give up shit and you know it. You chose to let me live. You even apologized to me, because you thought you were going to die!”

“I apologized because I put your life above Stiles’!” Jackson shouted and shoved Derek back. “I gave up both of our lives, so Talia wouldn’t have to suffer the loss of a child!”

Derek tilted his head slightly. There was definitely no lie in those words, which just made them sting even more. Of course, Jackson could lie like a master when he wanted to. When he was as emotional as he was, he couldn’t lie worth a damn, though. He really did sacrifice himself and Stiles so Talia wouldn’t lose her son. His feelings for Derek didn’t even factor into the equation. Jackson just didn’t want another death on his conscience.

“You didn’t even think of me, did you?”

“No. You’re not my mate, Hale. Get over—” Jackson broke off into a gasp as Derek appeared in front of him, hand around his throat, forcing his head back.

Derek glared at the shifter, anger coursing through him that Jackson would so easily deny him. He’d fought dragon hunters for that prick. He’d watched his mother almost die at the hands of those hunters, until Vincent healed her. He almost lost his alpha, just to keep Jackson safe. He would _not_ be denied what was his.

Lowering his head, Derek placed his mouth over Jackson’s racing pulse, tasting the skin. Cold and sweet, like fresh snow. He removed his hand and Jackson’s head fell back even further. Glancing up, Derek watched as those diamond like tears fell from the corner of Jackson’s eyes, leaving their silver trails over his pale skin. There was fear in him. Fear of letting his guard down. Fear of losing what he loved.

Stiles got out of the car, staring at them. “How dense are you, Derek?” he asked and shook his head.

Derek lowered his eyes, burying his face into Jackson’s throat, holding the shifter as close as possible. For the longest time, he believed that Jackson was pushing them away so he could return home. Somehow, the idea of pushing them away so people would believe he didn’t care about them never crossed his mind. Knowing that hunters would come searching for him had Jackson on edge all the time. He couldn’t let anyone close to him, regardless of how he felt.

The only one he allowed past his defenses was a shifter that could protect himself against hunters. The only one that could love him, could see the real smile he hid from the world. Derek closed his eyes, trying to force his tears away. He knew what was coming. He knew what he needed to do, but he would be damned if he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

“I don’t want your family dying because of me, Hale,” Jackson said softly and Derek opened his eyes. Jackson was staring up at the night sky.

“They’ll come after us, even if you leave,” Derek whispered, resting his head on Jackson’s shoulder. “With you around we’ll have a fighting chance.”

Jackson’s head snapped to Stiles suddenly and Derek frowned, looking between them. He knew that shifters had telepathy, especially if they were close. Oftentimes, Derek wanted to know what Jackson was thinking about as he stared out the window of the bedroom during Christmas. How many ways was he thinking of pushing them away, trying to protect them? Was he just thinking about Vincent’s return, when he could be who he was without fear of being discovered?

Derek pulled back, frowning when Jackson’s hand reached for him. Jackson looked at his hand and then dropped it. “Take Artemis and Zeus back to the house. I’d like some time alone to think.”

“That’s not happening, Jackson,” Derek said and crossed his arms. “I’m still your protector.”

“Take my dogs back to the house, Hale. I won’t ask again.” Jackson stepped around the car and headed down the street. He stopped after a few paces and looked back. “If anything happens to them, you’ll discover just how easily I can torture someone I care about.”

Derek looked at Stiles, eyebrows raised. Stiles shrugged. “He loves those dogs, man,” he said and slipped into the car.

Frowning, Derek got in and glanced at the review mirror. Artemis and Zeus looked at him, their brown eyes seemingly blank. The longer he stared, the more he was certain there was something. There was a flash of silver in their pupils and his eyes widened, turning in the seat to stare at the dogs. Artemis tilted her head and Zeus licked his nose, before he laid down. Jackson really loved those dogs.

\--

At home, Derek killed the engine and got out of the car, opening the door for the dogs. The animals looked at him and remained where they were. Frowning, Derek closed the door and opened it again. The dogs remained where they were. It took him far too long to realize that the dogs didn’t move without a command and just his luck, he didn’t know a lick of Greek, aside from alpha, beta and omega.

Stiles stood beside Derek, gazing at the animals. “If we don’t get them out of the car, Jackson will kill both of us for leaving them,” he said and Derek groaned.

“Do you know any Greek?”

“ _Kólos_.” The dogs’ ears twitched and Stiles sighed with frustration. He created an English-Greek dictionary and flipped through the pages. “Um… _Ella_?” The dogs looked at him, both tilting their heads. “I think my pronunciation is off. They know I’m trying to say something to them.”

Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed the dictionary. His eyes widened as he stared at the words written. “Shit.” Glancing back at the house, Derek raised an eyebrow. “Anyone in there know Greek?” he called back, not surprised when the door opened a minute later.

“I know a little,” Laura said as she jogged over to them. She froze and looked around. “Where’s Jackson?”

“He needed some time alone,” Stiles said and took the dictionary from Derek, handing it to Laura. “He’ll be back soon. Trust me.”

“What do you want them to do?” Laura asked, smiling at the dogs. They wagged their tails.

“Get them inside the house, I guess?” Derek honestly had no idea. All he knew was that Jackson would cause a load of damage to someone if anything happened to his dogs.

“Is that all?” Laura shook her head. “ _Mésa_.”

Derek raised an eyebrow as the dogs ran from the backseat and into the house. He would need to learn enough Greek to give commands, should Jackson ever decide to leave the dogs with him again. As much as he knew those dogs could kill him, he kind of liked them. He didn’t like them enough to not be jealous of the love and affection Jackson showed them, but he liked the idea of them keeping watch over the house.

With a shrug, Derek closed the door and followed the dogs inside. The moment Stiles entered the house, Peter was on him, checking him over and making sure nothing untoward had happened. Derek didn’t even think about that. The shifters had been at the complete mercy of the hunters, as the spells made them compliant. Derek wasn’t going to think about what happened while they were in the asylum, mostly because he couldn’t handle it.

In the kitchen, Talia sighed into her coffee. “Is he—?”

“He’s safe,” Derek answered and sat beside her, taking her hand. “So is Stiles and so are the dogs. Everything is all right, now. Jackson just needed some time alone. He’ll be home soon.”

“And how are you?” Talia stared at Derek, studying his face.

Derek shrugged. “Drained. Angry. Happy. Sad. Fucking furious,” he replied and slumped in the chair. “He…does my head in. He easily handed over half of his lifeforce to me, but it wasn’t because I’m his mate. He did it so you wouldn’t lose me, because of him. He denies me, but fears losing me. I don’t understand him.”

Talia chuckled and wiped her eyes. She sat back, a smile on her face. “He’s probably feeling everything you are. The moment you found out what his breed was, you had to know he would be terrified of getting remotely close to us.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Derek muttered and glared at the table. “He’s just being stubborn for the sake of it.”

“That sounds familiar,” Talia said with a pointed look at Derek. “He probably thought that about his parents, both sets of them. His real parents were murdered and his adoptive parents shipped him off and haven’t seen in him eight years. Can you blame him for being a little wary and guarded?”

The anger slowly died from Derek’s eyes. He forgot that Jackson hadn’t seen his parents in eight years. They never visited and they never called him. They made sure his designer closet never emptied, though. Still, he was certain that Jackson would prefer to see them, rather than just accept their gifts.

“And then he hits puberty and realizes that you’re his mate. Someone he isn’t sure he can trust.” Talia cupped Derek’s cheek, which made him look at his mother. “You haven’t exactly opened up to him, either,” she said warmly and Derek dropped his eyes to the table. “You’re both as broken as each other.”

Derek sighed softly and closed his eyes. He frowned and looked at the kitchen entrance when Peter came in, carrying Stiles on his back. Those two always had the relationship that Derek wanted with Jackson. He frowned when Peter placed Stiles on a stool at the breakfast counter, brushing his fingers along Stiles’ jaw. His eyes went to his mother and she smiled. That wasn’t something he was expecting. Maybe he had the same relationship with Jackson, then.

“I’m heading up to bed. I feel like hell,” Derek said and stood up. He kissed his mother’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” Talia smiled as Derek left the kitchen.

Jogging up the stairs, Derek stopped at the bedroom Jackson still shared with Stiles. He wondered how long it would be until Stiles moved into Peter’s bedroom. Shaking his head, Derek went to his bedroom, kicking the door shut and pulling off his shirt. He collapsed on the bed, sliding his arms under the pillows and staring at the wall opposite him. He sighed and turned his head, closing his eyes.

\--

Derek opened his eyes, keeping his heartrate normal. There was a second heart in the room. Turning his head, he saw Jackson beside his bed, knees to his chest. He was asleep if the steady beating was anything to go by. The window was open and he could hear the dogs outside the bedroom door, probably wanting to greet their master.

Getting up onto his elbows, Derek reached out and touched the back of the neck that was so plainly on offer. Jackson inhaled deeply and scratched his neck, which just made Derek smirk. He ran his fingers over it again and there was a slight groan. Derek knew Jackson was pouting, but refusing to wake up.

“Your dogs are outside the door,” Derek whispered and Jackson hummed.

“I know,” he said and straightened his shoulders. Derek winced as they cracked, but he just gripped his knees and stayed where he was. “Go back to sleep, Hale.”

“Only if you’re in the bed,” Derek said, surprised that came out.

Jackson raised his head and looked at him. His magic slipped, letting his eyes glow in the darkness of the room. The vivid azure and bright silver was a beautiful combination. Derek wished he could see those eyes all the time, instead of whenever Jackson was an emotional mess. It seemed he wasn’t an emotional mess at that moment, though. As quickly as the eyes were revealed, the magic was pulled up and their brilliance was snuffed.

“Go to sleep,” Jackson repeated and lowered his head to his knees again. “You look like shit.”

“Jackson!” Talia snapped from her bedroom. “Watch your language. And just get in the bed.”

Jackson’s head snapped up and he glared at the wall with a growl. Derek couldn’t help it. The reaction was such an overreaction to something to simple that he laughed. Jackson turned his head and stared at him. Calming down, Derek sat up and grabbed Jackson, easily lifting him up. He pulled the shifter onto the bed, keeping him in place with arm across his shoulders.

Derek cracked an eye when he felt the material change, the magic sending a tingle over his body. Jackson was in his pajamas and turning over, facing his back to Derek, practically on the edge of the bed. Somehow, that seemed more hurtful than Jackson denying him. Words could be erased, but his body language was all about rejection and he wasn’t comfortable enough to fall asleep in the bed, either.

 _Did you want to talk?_ Derek asked and Jackson’s shoulders tensed a moment, before they relaxed. Derek knew Jackson didn’t like any intrusion into his mind. His mental defenses were almost impenetrable. The only reason Derek could get into his mind was because there was a link between mates.

Jackson took a moment to answer. _I want my dogs in here._ Derek rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Those dogs made Jackson feel safe, but he really didn’t trust Zeus and his penchant for castration. Before he could deny or allow, another whispered through his mind. _Please?_ That was a word Derek was certain Jackson didn’t know.

“Fine,” Derek said softly and got up. He opened the door and the dogs entered without a command. “But they’re not allowed on the bed.”

Jackson shrugged and slipped off the bed. He laid on the floor, curling into the soft fur of Zeus, while Artemis kept watch for the night. The smile on Jackson’s face had Derek glaring at the dogs, unable to believe that Jackson would prefer to sleep on the floor with the dogs than share a bed with him, with his dogs in the room.

With a frown, Jackson raised his head and stared at Derek. “You’re projecting your thoughts, by the way,” he said and lowered his head. “Getting jealous over dogs? That’s got to be a new low for you, Hale.”

Derek felt his embarrassment and anger spike. “You’re the one sleeping on the floor with the dogs. Perhaps you enjoy being treated like one,” he hissed and heard a sigh of disapproval from his mother’s room.

Jackson simply smirked at him. “I only lay with those I love and trust.” There was a groan from Talia and a hissing sound from Stiles, followed by a chuckle. “Is it any wonder I’d rather be on the floor than in your bed?”

“Derek, give up,” Laura said with a laugh in her voice. “He just brutalized you verbally. Go lick your wounds.”

Gritting his teeth, Derek closed the door and laid on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling for a little while, hearing the others going back to sleep. When he turned his eyes to Jackson, he found that he was asleep, the dogs basically cocooning him and giving him the warmth he needed. Artemis raised her head and stared at him, her pupils sparkling silver for a moment, before she rested down again.

\--

Derek woke when he heard his bedroom door open. He sighed softly and nuzzled into the soft body he was hugging, which had him jerking back and opening his eyes. He stared at Zeus, who was still asleep and on his bed, like he owned the damn thing. He turned his eyes to the door, seeing Jackson standing there, stretching his arms over his head.

Jackson’s eyes met his and Derek refused to admit that his heart gave a little flutter at the smile on the shifter’s face. “Zeus,” he called and the dog raised his head. “ _Exo_.” The large animal stood up and stepped off the bed, stretching, before it left the room.

Derek frowned as Jackson approached the bed and knelt on it, gazing down at him. Jackson leaned down, nuzzling at his throat. He pulled back and unlocked his cell phone, showing Derek the picture he took of him cuddling with Zeus. Derek growled and reached for the phone, Jackson letting him have it.

“I’ve already sent it to the entire family,” Jackson said as Derek deleted the picture. Derek looked up as Jackson’s shoulders slumped and he stared down at the bedcovers. “I trust my dogs’ judgement more than I trust my own. Zeus has taken you into his flock.” He looked up, the magic dropping for just a few seconds. “If Artemis accepts you, I might consider taking you on as my mate.”

Derek stared as Jackson’s cool fingertips brushed across his cheek. In the next second, he was gone. Derek blinked and flopped back on his bed, dropping an arm over his eyes. Those dogs… Moving his arm, Derek stared at the ceiling. Those dogs were part of Jackson’s carnival of rust, the part he had fixed. They loved him unconditionally, they would die to protect him. Jackson was asking him to become part of that, should he gain a dog’s trust. As long as he didn’t have to do anything degrading, he wouldn’t mind having a couple of magically protected dogs to keep his mate and his family safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! A word to the sponsors!
> 
> Reddy_no_1: They need to be fast. Can you imagine what would happen to them if they took their time with rare breeds like Stiles and Jackson? I hope this chapter answered your question about the dragon foreseeing disasters. And yes, that does make you sound a little psycho, but who cares? Some people are just pretty when they cry. And yes. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: We always knew the boys were a little dense at times. Yes, it was a pity, but with the build up of these hunters, I figured it was time that they finally made an appearance. As for training them the pack to handle them, I don't think there was much they could do, when they threaten Jackson's mate. Also, he kind of only just thought of them. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Guest1701: Yes, Vincent does have a very twisted mind. Honestly, he is the sort to train a dog to bite someone's dick, but that's why I love him. I hope most of your questions were answered with this chapter. Some things couldn't be answered without giving away a whole load of lore that I've already written up in several other fics (none of which actually tie in with this fandom) and I can't see it coming up too much in this fic in the future. Thanks for the comment and I hope to hear from you again!
> 
> To those that left kudos, thanks a bunch!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	10. Mistakes were Made

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

Outside of the Hale house the next day, Jackson tilted his head as he watched Derek. The added speed and strength of a wolf-shifter’s lifeforce shouldn’t be too hard for Derek to grapple. Shielding his mind and stopping his thought from being projected was something else entirely. The wolfy parts of the lifeforce were definitely the easier parts. Derek was enjoying the added speed, strength, sight, hearing and smell.

_This is annoying._ Jackson sighed softly and crossed his arms. Derek was glaring at the ground, trying to shield his mind. Somehow, he didn’t understand what Jackson meant, despite telling him exactly what it meant. Derek never had to worry about that before. Jackson and Stiles never invaded anyone’s mind, unless they had to. If anyone was projecting their thoughts, they weren’t strong to breech their defenses. Derek was hearing everyone’s thoughts, from his pack to the people that exercised in the preserve.

“Shield your mind, Hale,” Jackson said, tilting his head again when Derek glared at him. “My mental shields are diamond. Stiles has gold. Your shield can be anything you want it to be, but it has to be _something_. You’ll go insane if you don’t protect your mind.”

Derek growled and Jackson straightened his head. He never thought that giving up half his lifeforce would weaken Derek’s original shields, but he only had those against his breed. Stiles had said that the Hale pack’s shields were quite weak. With the power of a shifter in him, Derek needed to learn things he never bothered to consider. Jackson was surprised. He figured that the Hale pack would’ve thought about protecting their minds, mostly because he thought all supernaturals did.

Sighing, Jackson found Derek’s mind and gave him the feeling of icy wind being blasted through him. Derek winced, before he shivered and the glare returned to his eyes. “Protect your mind,” Jackson stated sternly. He released the wind again, Derek gave the same reaction. “Protect your mind!”

Jackson kept going, until Derek was on a knee, breathing heavily and sweating. Something about the lesson wasn’t clicking to him and Jackson couldn’t understand it. Even if it was just a brick wall around his mind, it would be better than nothing. Derek raised his head, his eyes flashing blue for a moment, before Jackson just sent another icy blast through his mind.

“It shouldn’t be this difficult,” Jackson said and sighed.

Derek struggled to get upright and rubbed his temples. “You’ve been a shifter your entire life,” he said and found the strength to glare.

“Even shifters learn to protect their minds. We have temporary shields in place, until we turn five.” Jackson lowered his eyes for a moment. “So, if a five year old can do it, your ancient ass should be able to, as well!”

Jackson’s eyes widened as Derek’s eyes swirled, literally swirled between glittering blue and ice green. Fear shot through him and he backed away from the werewolf. That was literally impossible. All he had done was give Derek life, he hadn’t mixed their bloods or any other source of DNA. He made sure of it, as he knew Derek would hate him forever if he did anything like that. The entire Hale pack would hate him.

“St-St-Stiles,” Jackson called weakly as he took another step from Derek, unable to take his eyes off the werewolf. He ignored the way Derek frowned at him, confused by the fear.

Stiles hummed as he stepped out of the house and froze as he stared at Derek. His mouth fell open for a moment, before he swallowed and blinked, turning his attention to Jackson. “How the fuck did that happen?!” he demanded and Jackson opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a single answer. “We are so boned!”

Derek straightened and looked between the shifters. “What? What’s going on?”

“Shit,” Jackson whispered and ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck! How do we fix this?”

“How did it happen?” Stiles shot back as he stood beside Jackson, staring at Derek.

“Who gives a shit _how_ it happened!” Jackson rested his hands on his neck, staring at Derek’s swirling eyes. “We need to fix it. Now!”

“Knowing how it happened might give us a way to fix it,” Stiles said with a glare at Jackson. “If you hadn’t denied him as your mate, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Jackson growled. “The Collectors still would’ve forced me to give up half my lifeforce for him,” he stated and bit his lower lip. “Fuck, I am so dead. They’re going to kill me.”

“No, they won’t,” Stiles said, placing a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. Both of them ignored Derek growling at him. “We just have to explain what happened…”

Jackson finally turned his eyes from Derek and glared at Stiles. “ _I_ would kill me if I was in their place,” he snapped and sighed.

“What is going on?” Derek demanded, narrowing his swirling eyes between the pair. “What are you talking about?”

Jackson scrambled to think of a lie, but they heard a car approaching. “Oh,” he practically squeaked, his fear spiking higher somehow. “Of course they return now.” Staring at the only entrance the car could come from, Jackson sighed. “Okay. I can hide him for a little while, but they’re going to notice something strange is happening.”

Stiles scratched the side of his neck, worry etched on his face. “Maybe it won’t be a problem?”

“They’re _werewolves_ , Stiles! This is an affront to them. I’ve almost literally burnt their culture and pissed on the ashes!” Jackson inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. Adrenaline flooded his system, trying to think of something to do and a way to get out of the problem without killing Derek and claiming it was hunters. “Don’t,” he said to Derek when the werewolf opened his mouth. “Just don’t.”

The Camaro pulled up and Derek turned to it. Jackson gripped Stiles’ shoulder as Talia and Laura stared at Derek, their eyes wide. Of course, Peter and Cora came out of the house and saw the way their pack was staring at Derek, who turned to them and their reactions were the same as Talia and Laura. Almost as one, the eyes of the werewolves turned to Jackson and he suddenly found breathing becoming a difficulty.

His mind ran through the scenarios, all of them horrible and left him scared and alone. The worst one was Derek taking his own life, because he became something he never wanted. His knees gave out. He tried to pull himself from that dark place in his mind, but nothing was helping. He could feel Stiles’ hands on him, trying to get him to breathe, but all he could do was stare at Derek’s eyes. How had he managed to fuck up someone’s life so thoroughly? It almost didn’t seem fair to the pair of them.

The white noise that had been clouding his mind suddenly snapped when he heard a growl. His head snapped to the front door of the house, where Cora quickly slammed it to keep his dogs inside, before they attacked the people that were frightening their master. Blinking, Jackson looked up at Derek and quickly looked away again. Talia was standing beside her son, hand on his shoulder, while Laura still stared at him.

“Jackson,” Talia said as Jackson got to his feet with the help of Stiles.

“I’ll find a way to fix it, I swear,” Jackson said, unable to meet her eyes.

“Mom, what the hell is going on?” Derek demanded and Talia tutted.

“Neither of you told him?” she asked, both Stiles and Jackson suddenly finding the ground interesting. She sighed and shook her head. “You’re a wolf-shifter, Derek.”

\--

Jackson sat at the kitchen table as Derek stared at his eyes and hair in a mirror. Silence had fallen over the house for the last hour, while Derek digested the new information. Jackson waited as patiently as he could for Derek to either stop admiring his new eyes or to finally get over the shock. They clearly needed to talk about what happened and find a way to fix it.

“That explains the buzzing in my veins that started when I woke up today,” Derek said and put the mirror down. He stared at Jackson, who gazed at the tabletop. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson answered and closed his eyes. He chewed his lower lip and chanced a glance at Derek. The newly turned wolf-shifter was guarded. “Some of my DNA must have mixed with the blood you were coughing up when I gave you my lifeforce. Probably from my tears.”

There was another long silence. Derek glanced at the mirror and sighed. “I didn’t ask for this,” he said as he glared at Jackson. “I didn’t _want_ this.”

“I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen, either,” Jackson growled and sat back, crossing his arms. “I’m sure there’s a way to fix it. Hell, maybe we can even get rid of the mate-link bullshit I don’t want.”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue and Jackson screamed, feeling fire erupting over his body. Every single fiber of his being felt as though it was being engulfed by flames, starting from the core of him. It lasted only a few seconds, but they felt like an eternity, until the heat disappeared. He stared at Derek, who frowned at him and Jackson got to his feet, standing back from the table.

“That’s impossible.” Derek stood and Jackson jumped back. “Stiles!” The metal wolf tentatively stepped into the kitchen, tilting his head when he looked between the pair. “He’s a soul wolf.”

Stiles laughed, which trailed off when he realized that Jackson was serious. “No, that’s impossible. You’re a snow wolf. At most, he’d be an ice wolf.”

Jackson swallowed and shook his head. “I just felt him burn my soul.”

Derek frowned. “That’s what I did?” He narrowed his eyes and they flashed blue again.

Jackson’s eyes widened as a different kind of heat flowed through him. He rested against the table, knowing he stank of arousal, knowing his magic had dropped and knowing that if he even _looked_ at Derek, he would make a mess in his pants. He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, trying to get some kind of control over what was happening to his very being.

“Derek, that’s enough, dude,” Stiles said and Jackson bit his lower lip.

Jackson inhaled deeply, chilling the air as he took it in. It helped soothe the heat that was coursing through his body and he opened his eyes, glaring at Derek. “Stop,” he ordered and the heat left his body entirely. Derek tilted his head. “Soul wolves have two purposes – use and abuse. They were wiped out after the last Inquisition, except one and she lives in hiding because of what she did.”

Stiles cleared his throat when Derek’s eyes widened. “Having that kind of power over someone typically goes to the shifter’s head. There’s only one soul wolf alive and only two soul dragons. All others are killed a year after their birth. If you don’t want to end up that, I suggest you don’t use it.”

“And since I have a demon watching over me, if you _ever_ force me to be horny again, I will call him in,” Jackson warned, his eyes hard.

“That will not be necessary,” an unknown voice said and Jackson frowned at the pale stranger in the kitchen. “I am the demon watching over you, Jackson. My name is Tsuki Kurenai.”

Jackson cocked an eyebrow. “You’re joking, right? Your name is ‘Moon’ and you’re watching over a wolf-shifter that’s being protected by werewolves?” He laughed and shook his head. “Wow. The irony is strong with this one.”

Tsuki’s eyes were amused, but there was no smile on his face. He walked up to the table without making a sound and Jackson realized he couldn’t hear much of a heartbeat, either. Tsuki was taller than him and definitely had the appearance of a ‘femboy.’ One of those boys that could wear a dress and make a convincing female. His dark eyes were the most intriguing part for Jackson. While they were amused for the moment, there was a sad edge to them. Like Tsuki had seen a lot and it had taken a huge toll on him.

“My name aside,” Tsuki said and placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. Jackson glared at it. “Derek, technically, is actually an ice wolf, with command over earth. The soul part of his transformation was actually because of his own soul.”

Jackson continued to glare at Tsuki’s hand, until it was removed. Once the demon was no longer touching Derek, he looked at the face. “What does that mean?”

Stiles gazed at Derek. “It means there’s a blight on Derek’s soul and this is redemption,” he explained and Tsuki nodded. “You’re in for a world of hurt, Sourwolf.”

Derek frowned at Stiles. “What does that mean?”

Jackson rubbed his neck and sighed. “Soul wolves can’t be created. You’re not natural, which means you’re going to feel everything from every soul you encounter. There’s no defense for you.”

“And by that you mean…?”

“When you burned my soul and then set it alight with desire, you’re going to feel that from everyone around you. Whatever their souls are feeling, you’re going to feel it – all at once.” Jackson lowered his eyes. “You’re going to go insane. Once you lose your grip on reality, you’ll only torture everyone around you.” He raised his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Derek looked between all of them. “And the demon’s here to kill me, before I do that?”

_It was a mercy killing._ Jackson frowned. He wasn’t sure what Derek was talking about, but he still didn’t know how to shield his mind. He was still projecting his thoughts. “What was a mercy killing?” Jackson asked.

Derek sighed. “Paige. She was my girlfriend a few years back. But you two already knew that. Both of you knew she was going to die.” He shook his head. “She rejected the bite and I killed her to end her suffering.”

Jackson pursed his lips, especially when Stiles glared at him. He shut down his line of thoughts, which would just make him look really bad. “That sucks,” he said instead. “If I had known that, I never would’ve saved your life.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You would’ve let me die that night?” Jackson growled and Derek smirked. “That’s what I thought.” The mirth dropped from him as he looked at Tsuki. “Will it be quick?”

Tsuki shook his head. “You misunderstand the reason I am here, Derek. I am not here to kill you, but to make you an offer. You have three options. One, I kill you and deal with your mate spending the rest of eternity trying to find a way to kill me.” He glanced at Jackson, who shrugged. He probably would. “Two, I remove the soul part of your shifter status and you become an ice wolf. Three, I remove your shifter status entirely and I return the lifeforce Jackson gave you.”

“You can’t,” Jackson said and slammed his hands on the table. “That was a gift!”

“The circumstances of the exchange is what made him a shifter,” Tsuki explained gently, his eyes soft. “On some level, both of you wanted to live as shifters. However, a werewolf that has taken an innocent life was always bound to have redemption attached.” Jackson opened his mouth to argue the fact. “I know you did not know about that, Jackson. These are the only options I can offer.”

Jackson stared at Derek, who was staring down at the table. A werewolf’s life was significantly shorter than that of a shifter. Jackson would have to watch Derek grow old and die, while he remained the same. Maybe that was why he had given his lifeforce, instead of just healing the wounds and forcing the wolfsbane from Derek’s body. As much as he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to live his life without Derek in it.

Unfortunately, he knew the choice was entirely Derek’s. He had no say in the matter and he doubted he could get ever give Derek half of his lifeforce again, unless there was a catch. Derek didn’t want to be a shifter, regardless on if he had wanted it that night, when Jackson saved him. Being a werewolf was everything for Derek and he couldn’t force him to be something he didn’t want.

“Do I have to answer now?” Derek asked and Jackson could feel his eyes on him.

“No. I do need an answer within forty-eight hours, though. After that, you will feel everything.” Tsuki patted Derek’s shoulder awkwardly. “Good luck.”

Once his presence vanished from the house, the rest of the Hale pack entered the kitchen. Talia hugged Derek. “I’m so sorry, Derek,” she whispered. “Whatever you pick, we’ll still love you. You know that, right?”

“I know, Mom.”

Jackson refused to look up as Derek continued to stare at him. He had no say in the matter. The decision was Derek’s alone, as much as Jackson would prefer that he stay a shifter. At least then they could have a decent life together. He frowned. When the hell did that even become an option? He was going to blame hormones, which had all settled, but it was the only thing he could think about blaming.

_Speak to me._ Jackson closed his eyes as Derek’s voice whispered through his mind. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could think to say. The decision was Derek’s and Derek’s alone. As much as he wanted to tell Derek that he would help him with his magic, he just shook his head. There wasn’t anything he could do. All he could do was accept whatever option Derek went with and accept responsibility that he was the cause of the problem.

Jackson opened his eyes when he felt someone touch his shoulder. He glanced at Cora, seeing her offering a small smile. “Did you two want to talk about it, alone?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jackson said and pulled back. “Whatever he decides is the right choice.”

“Even if I stay as a soul wolf?” Derek asked and Jackson glared at him.

“If you want to be a complete and total fucking moron, yes!”

“Language,” Talia snapped and Jackson glared at the table. “We’ll go out for a little bit. You two have a lot to talk about.”

In less than three minutes, the werewolves and Stiles had left the house, gotten into two cars and driven away. Artemis and Zeus were patrolling the outside of the house, leaving Jackson alone completely with Derek. The one person he didn’t want to look at. He heard the chair scrape along the floor and heard the heartbeat get closer, until he could feel the warmth radiating from Derek.

Frowning, Jackson looked at Derek. He placed a hand to his chest and narrowed his eyes. For the moment, Derek was an ice wolf. Jackson knew they tended to run warmer, as they needed the insulation for being around their element. He sighed and pulled his hand. Even as a wolf-shifter Derek would still be the one providing warmth. He stared at Derek’s chest, mostly because he wouldn’t see the swirling eyes he was responsible for.

“We need to talk about this, Jackson,” Derek said.

“Okay. I’m sorry,” Jackson said with a shrug. “I didn’t know saving your life was going to cause this much trouble. I’ll make sure I don’t do it again in the future.”

“Do you want me to be a wolf-shifter?” Derek asked.

Jackson frowned. “It isn’t about what I want, Hale. If you want to be a wolf-shifter, awesome. You’ll no longer be immune to my magic, which means I can kick your ass for making me look like _this_!” He raised his head and glared at Derek.

Derek tilted his head, running the back of his fingers over Jackson’s cheek. “I still like how you look,” he said softly and Jackson lowered his eyes, staring at Derek’s throat. He closed his eyes as Derek’s fingers ran over the freckles. “And those are still cute.” He inhaled shakily, trying to calm his racing heart as Derek’s thumb brushed over his lower lip. “And these,” he murmured as he ducked his head and Jackson could feel his warmth breath. “Need to give me an answer.”

Jackson opened his eyes and pulled back from Derek. “It isn’t about what I want,” he repeated, a lot less firmly than said previously. “But don’t stay as a soul wolf. Please.”

Derek straightened. “That’s your only request of me? Do you want me to be a wolf-shifter?”

“I don’t know!” God, even Jackson could hear the lie in his voice. He stared at Derek, who raised an eyebrow. Shaking his head, Jackson turned to leave. “You don’t want it, anyway. May as well go back to being a werewolf.”

Jackson growled as Derek’s arms wrapped around him. He froze when he felt Derek’s nose and stubble on the back of his neck. Damn it, it felt so good. Derek’s scent was even smelling better to him. He could smell the wolf, the ice and the pine. It mixed so well with his own scent of fresh snow. He gasped quietly when Derek’s tongue up the back of his neck and he nuzzled into his hair.

“Do you want me to be a wolf-shifter?”

Jackson lowered his eyes, watching as a tear landed on Derek’s tanned arm. The silver seemed much brighter than when it landed on Stiles’ pale arm. The muscles moved and the tear ran down, leaving a silver track. He knew what his answer was, but he couldn’t force it on Derek. After all, he had been completely correct when he said he didn’t want it and he didn’t ask for it. Jackson had subconsciously forced it on him.

Swallowing, Jackson turned his head. “Do you want to be a wolf-shifter?”

“If it means you’ll accept me as your mate, yes.”

Jackson shook his head. “You really don’t understand a thing about me, do you? Being my mate will be a death sentence. Do you think The Collectors are ever going to stop searching for me? They’re hunters, which means they can kill you. Why would I put you in that kind of danger, for happiness and love?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

_You’re loved, Jax._ Vincent’s words rang through Jackson’s head. He’d only been seven when the dragon spoke those words to him. _And because you’re loved, you can’t show off your magic. Find people you trust to keep your secret. They’ll know how they can protect you._ In the last nine years, Jackson had found one person he trusted completely with his secret. And that had almost ended badly.

What if I can’t trust anyone?

Vincent had chuckled and pulled him into a hug. _There will always be someone you trust,_ mikros _. You just have to trust yourself. You know that being a snow wolf is a serious health hazard._ That was an understatement. The idea of what could happen to him if he dropped his magic for just a moment terrified him. Nightmares of beating hearts and blood filled his young brain every night.

Jackson assumed that was his problem. He didn’t trust himself. He was so scared of losing those he loved that he would rather push them away on his terms than have them killed on someone else’s terms. Stiles had been auctioned off because he put his feelings for Derek before either of them. Derek was now a wolf-shifter, because he let his feelings and emotions rule him for a second.

The Hale pack knew about him. They knew what breed he was and why he was under their protection. The only one that had almost betrayed him was Derek and that was because of him. Jackson knew that if he hadn’t violently pushed Derek away for years, none of it would have happened. Kate wouldn’t have found a way to weasel in and gotten the information she needed. After all was said and done, Jackson knew that if he wasn’t a scared little boy, frightened of what _might_ happen to him, they wouldn’t have The Collectors to deal with.

“I’m already in that kind of danger, Jackson. Just being around you puts everyone in danger,” Derek said and Jackson shivered. Derek’s breath danced over his cold skin, warming it and doing strange things to his nerves that he didn’t think possible. “We know that having a snow wolf anywhere in the world puts that place in danger. Is that any reason to be unhappy?”

“Is that any reason to put myself in the position to have my heart ripped out?” Jackson shot back with a glare.

Derek frowned and pulled back, turning Jackson around. “You don’t mean that,” he said, eyes flickering down to Jackson’s chest.

Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “My parents were murdered so a hunter could get to me,” he said and closed his eyes, trying to will the tears back. He inhaled deeply and looked at Derek. “The only things I let into my heart were my dogs, until I was shipped out here. Eight years…” He trailed off and shook his head. He hadn’t seen David or Diana for half his life. “In eight years, Stiles managed to weasel his way into my heart, as well.”

And what had he done? He allowed The Collectors to take him and Stiles, just so Derek could be safe. Stiles had actually been auctioned off and would have been dead in less than a week, had Derek not found his way to them. That was a serious amount of guilt Jackson doubted he’d ever lose. He had willingly given up the life of an unconscious metal wolf for a werewolf he didn’t want to be mated to.

“And then I do the dumbest thing known to any shifter!” Jackson stared at Derek. “I gave myself up to be auctioned and murdered for a _werewolf_! As long as you were all right, I didn’t give a shit what happened to me or Stiles.” He swallowed and dropped his head, letting the tears run from his eyes.

Jackson didn’t fight as he felt Derek’s arms wrap around his shoulders. He couldn’t stop thinking he was a monster for doing what he did. Stiles didn’t seem bothered by it, but Jackson hadn’t spoken to him. He swallowed as Derek’s arms tightened. His hands shook as he raised them and placed them on Derek’s hips, knowing that needing comfort made him weak. He couldn’t deny that it felt nice, though.

A frown crossed his face. Not all of that guilt was his, he realized. Derek was feeling the guilt of what happened with Kate. Derek was terrified of what could have happened, if he and Stiles hadn’t found him in time. Jackson pulled back slightly and stared at the werewolf. Kate had met Derek while he was at college and waited until he was back in Beacon Hills to start poisoning him. He couldn’t blame Derek for wanting to be with someone that didn’t shove him away violently or threaten to kill him.

Before Derek could ask the question hovering on the tip of his tongue, Jackson wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered.

“It feels like it was,” Derek said and closed his eyes. “I really wanted to get back at you for pushing me away. I met her before…before I knew… After that, I think she knew that I had someone waiting at home for me. I thought she would be a friend.”

“I understand,” Jackson murmured and nuzzled under Derek’s ear. “You didn’t know what she was like. You can’t blame yourself for wanting a friend. I think you were the one to tell me that having friends was a good thing.”

“Except my friends from school don’t talk to me, I murdered my first girlfriend, my mate is a hunted shifter and the one person I thought could be a friend raped and tortured me.” Derek sighed, hugging Jackson tightly. “Now, there’s the problem of me being a wolf-shifter.”

Jackson nodded and pulled back, gazing at Derek. “I can’t help you with that. You need to make the decision.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

Jackson exhaled shakily and nodded, sitting on the table and resting his feet on the chair. “You know how to be a werewolf and you had a natural defense against my magic,” he said and shrugged. “As a wolf-shifter, you’ll need to protect your mind and learn your magic. I’m a snow wolf, so I can help with your ice magic. But we’ll need to call in an earth shifter to help you with that section.”

Derek rested against the table, crossing his arms. “Being a werewolf is all I know,” he said honestly and lowered his eyes. “Watching you and Stiles… The amount of control you have over your magic, because you’re so scared of letting anyone see it, makes me think it isn’t worth it.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” Jackson said with a shrug. “You’re not a snow wolf. You’ll be an ordinary ice wolf, which is probably for the best.” He lowered his eyes. “And your scent is nice.”

Derek nodded, before he groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “You really aren’t going to have any say in this, are you?”

Jackson stared at him. “I became your mate when you were a werewolf. I don’t think that’s going to change if you go back to being a werewolf. Your scent wasn’t… _offensive_ as a werewolf. I just prefer your scent now.” Heat creeped onto his cheeks and he huffed, dropping his head. “Fuck, Derek! It doesn’t matter what _I_ want, anyway. What do _you_ want?”

Derek gazed at him for a while, his mind blank and Jackson realized he was keeping his thoughts hidden. “For you to say my name more often,” Derek finally said and Jackson frowned. He didn’t even realize he’d never said Derek’s name to his face before. “To love me as fiercely as you love your dogs. Or even to love me as protectively as you love Stiles.”

Jackson dropped his head again, resting his hands on his neck. He could admit to Derek that he did love him as much as he loved his dogs, but what good would that do? There was a reason why he was shoving Derek away. If he lost Derek, he wouldn’t have anything left to live for. Fighting and arguing with Derek was the highlight of his day, most of the time. Watching Derek trying to dominate his dogs was a close second, especially as Zeus terrified him.

“I can’t show that,” Jackson said quietly. “I can’t let anyone know. I can’t…I _won’t_ watch you die in front of me, again.”

Silence filled the house, broken only when one of the dogs moved by, their tags jingling. Jackson didn’t even realize how tense he was, until he relaxed under the hand on his neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the warmth and familiar feeling. Opening his eyes, he glanced up at Derek and saw that he was staring ahead, his face unreadable.

“I didn’t plan on the hunters, that night,” Derek said and Jackson tried to pinpoint the emotion. “All I know is that they did something to me, before they went for Stiles. He didn’t realize there were four of them. He saw me and then your dogs and I think he just wanted to help.” He sighed and shook his head, squeezing Jackson’s neck gently. “I don’t plan on almost dying, ever again.”

Jackson laughed and shook his head. “You…don’t exactly have a choice in that matter. As you pointed out, being around me makes that impossible.” He looked down at his hands. “Five years and I can finally leave, keeping you and your pack safe,” he added, mostly to remind himself why he couldn’t take Derek on as a mate.

_It’s your carnival of rust, Jax. You can either build it up or let it decay further._ Jackson wanted to kill Vincent. He was tired of that dragon always pushing through with his words of wisdom. Where did he get off thinking he could tell Jackson something like that? He could almost see the smirking face of Vincent, when he told Jackson how old he was. Just because he was over a thousand years old didn’t give him the right to make Jackson give serious consideration to taking on a mate, having a good life and thinking for one, brief moment that everything was perfect.

His life had been nothing but a carnival of rust. From the moment his adoptive parents saw his eyes, to them shoving him at a dragon, who had to explain everything, to being shipped off to California. Just when he thought everything would be all right, his mate turned out to be a werewolf. Just when he thought he _might_ be able to begin repairing that carnival of rust, it decayed further and seemed to drag him down. There were only a few select things that made his life seem worth it.

Jackson looked up at Derek and saw the swirling eyes of the newly changed shifter. He winced and went back to staring at his hands. Snow wolves always led a lonely existence, unable to have a mate or even friends. Being around one was a death sentence to those they cared about. Derek had almost met that end, just because hunters wanted to collect him and Stiles. If the rest of the pack had been home… Jackson flinched and closed his eyes, refusing to think about that.

_They’ll be happy to fight with you, but if you push them away, they won’t fight for you._ Jackson slowly opened his eyes. Vincent had said that, as though it was meant to mean something to his twelve year old brain. Jackson didn’t understand it four years ago and he wasn’t entirely sure if he understood it now. He had been trying to shove Derek away since he arrived and he was still by his side, like the protector he was.

Turning his eyes back to Derek, Jackson studied his profile, ignoring the eyes that Derek had no control over. He lowered his eyes along the cheek and down to the jawline. The collector that stopped them on their way back to Hale house was right. Derek did have a jawline to die for. If he was up for auction, Jackson would happily sink a few million to take him home.

“Is there something on my face?” Derek asked as he turned his head.

“Yeah, no freckles,” Jackson said with a small smile. “Just admiring,” he added with a shrug.

“You’ve always been cocky,” Derek said, running his fingers from Jackson’s neck, down his spine.

“This is me being shy,” Jackson remarked and smirked when Derek raised an eyebrow. “When someone’s as good as I am, they tend to be arrogant.” His back arched as Derek’s fingers tickling his nerves. He tensed when he felt Derek’s hand slip under his shirt. “Don’t.”

“Why?” Derek asked as he turned and stood in front of Jackson.

“One, I’m sixteen,” Jackson said and felt Derek remove his hand. “Two, I’ve already told you why this won’t work.”

“Huh. All I heard was that you were scared to be happy.”

Jackson glared at Derek. “So what if I am?” he snapped and dropped his glare to the floor. “I don’t know if I can magically protect you, Stiles, the pack and my dogs from harm. I’ve never tried anything like that before.”

Derek placed his hands on Jackson’s shoulders, making him look up. “You can, Jackson. I know you can, because you’re a goddamn snow wolf. You’re the only shifter in the house that could do all of that.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. Derek knew a lot about his breed, which had him worried. “How do you know about that? You seem very confident.”

“Vincent sent me an email, detailing everything that makes snow wolves so precious.” Jackson glared at the word used and Derek smirked. “The only thing you need to focus on is your energy. Aside from that, your magic is fully realized, so you could protect the entire town if you wanted.”

_Your energy is your limit. Once you learn to increase that, basically when you learn how to use less magic, you’ll be unstoppable._ Vincent had sounded so sure of himself when he said those words. Jackson frowned, thinking back to Stiles going through puberty. He hadn’t learned to use less energy when it came to his healing, but he assumed he couldn’t. It was something he needed to work on.

Jackson nodded, frowning as Derek pushed his way between his knees. “You need to talk to your pack about your decision.” He lowered his eyes, staring at Derek’s chest. “I’ll _think_ about the whole mate situation. You still haven’t won Artemis over.”

“She’s always close to Zeus,” Derek muttered and glared at the door.

Jackson laughed. “Zeus loves you, Hale,” he said and smiled up at the werewolf. He cleared his throat when Derek flinched. “He isn’t going to attack without a command from me.” He gently pushed Derek back and slipped off the table, opening the back door with a flick of his fingers. “ _Ártemis, Días, éla_.” The dogs trotted into the room and Jackson smiled at them.

“They were bred to kill wolves, right?” Derek asked and Jackson looked at him. “That’s what you said.”

“That’s because they’re livestock guardian dogs. They protect their flock or herd, whatever they’ve been trained to protect. I thought you would connect with them on that, at least.” Jackson took Derek’s hand and pulled him over to the dogs. “Say her name.”

Derek frowned at Jackson, but looked at the larger of the two dogs. “Artemis.” The dog’s head cocked to the side.

“She’s awaiting your command, now.” Jackson released Derek’s hand and stood back. “Pet her.”

Derek glanced at Jackson, who smiled as he smelled the small spike in fear. “I’ve seen what she can do hunters,” he said and Jackson’s smile stretched.

“They can also take out shifters, werewolves, vampires and the fucking Chupacabra. Pet her.” When Derek hesitated, Jackson sighed softly and stood beside him. “If you want to be my mate, you have to make nice with my friends.”

Derek held his hand out to Artemis, letting her sniff it first. Jackson stood back and watched as Derek’s large hand rested on the soft fur atop Artemis’s head. He gave her a gentle, almost timid pat and then looked back at Jackson. He smiled and nodded, his eyes going to his dogs. He nodded at them and Derek cried out as the two large dogs jumped on him, rubbing their scents on him, licking his face, their tails wagging happily behind them.

“ _Makriá apó_ ,” Jackson ordered and the dogs backed off Derek, who was staring up at the ceiling, looking as though he was just violated. Jackson crouched over him, watching as the eyes swirled between neon blue and ice green. It really was a pretty combination. “Welcome to the pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Now, a word to the sponsors:
> 
> Guest1701: Thanks for the comment. Yeah, I agree. It was a bit of a filler chapter, but I'm hoping you'll forgive that after this chapter. Glad to know you enjoyed it and I hope you enjoyed this one, too! (Also, I think any male would be terrified of a dog that was trained to castrate. XD)
> 
> Reddy_no_1: Thanks so much for that comment! Yes, Derek really should learn some Greek. To be fair, it is a bit of a difficult language to learn, but some simple commands wouldn't go astray, I'm sure. I wanted Talia to be like a mother and mine often threatened to wash my mouth out with soap when I swore, under the age of eighteen of course. I figured that would be something Talia would do, too. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Aira_Slytherin12thGen: And you're back too! *huggles* I'm sure Derek will be fine...totally and completely fine when it comes to winning Jackson over. Thank you so much for your comment and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too!
> 
> Bernard: ¡Gracias! ¡Sí, todos los corazones! ¡Los amo! Espero que hayas tenido un gran comienzo de año. Estoy tratando de seguir así, pero a veces me distraigo con otras historias en las que probablemente no debería pensar hasta que termine. Muchas gracias por el comentario y espero que también hayan disfrutado esta actualización.
> 
> Tpadimo: ¡Hola y bienvenido! Me alegra saber que disfrutaste la historia y espero que también te haya gustado esta actualización. Gracias por el comentario y espero tener noticias tuyas nuevamente.
> 
> To those that left kudos, thanks a bunch!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	11. Decisions Made

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

Jackson and Stiles sat in the living room, while the Hale pack was in the kitchen. The shifters were pretending not to listen in on the conversation, but everyone knew they were. The talk on if Derek was going to stay a wolf-shifter had them curious. Jackson wasn’t sure what answer the pack would come up with. All he knew was that he would support any decision Derek made. It wasn’t his place to tell the werewolf/wolf-shifter what to think.

Stiles looked at him and Jackson held his hand up. He wasn’t going to tell the metal wolf anything he and Derek talked about. He just wanted to keep that to himself for a moment. The fact that he showed he had emotions was something he didn’t want anyone to know, especially as he had shown them to _Derek_ , of all wolves. He mostly wanted to hear what Derek was going to do about his…transformation.

“I don’t know what to do,” Derek said quietly and Jackson knew he was looking towards the living room. “Being a shifter will help me protect him better, but…”

“It’s a lot of hard work being a shifter,” Talia finished for him and sighed softly. “You need to make a choice, Derek. Being a shifter for the next two days without any control over your magic, it could be dangerous for all of us. Jackson included.”

Jackson scoffed, insulted at the idea that a new shifter could hurt him. He’d been a shifter his entire life. Even if Derek did manage to freeze him, it wasn’t going to take much to undo new shifter magic. Talia cleared her throat. “Sorry.”

“Mom, this includes them, as well,” Laura said. “They may as well join us.”

“No, no,” Stiles called and grinned at Jackson. “It’s a family matter. We can stay in here.”

Jackson pressed his lips together, trying to keep the smile off his face. “Stiles is right, of course,” he said and knew the others could hear the smile in his voice.

“Get in here,” Talia ordered, which had Stiles and Jackson going into the kitchen. “Jackson, why aren’t you having a say in this? You’re the one that made the change possible.”

Jackson glanced at Derek for a moment, before he looked at Talia. “It isn’t my choice. Regardless of what I want, Derek has to pick,” he answered with a shrug.

“He’s your mate, Jackson,” Talia said gently and Jackson stared her. “You think I wouldn’t notice how happy you make my son?” She shook her head and Jackson continued to stare. “Oh, Jackson, a mother knows these things. If your parents saw you, they would see that Derek is your mate, as well.”

“Which set of parents are we talking about here? David and Diana would throw a _fit_ if they knew I was considering taking Derek as a mate. I can’t speak for my real parents, though. They might be cool with it.” Jackson frowned and gave a shrug.

Derek stared at Jackson, eyes narrowing slightly. “And what about you, Jackson?”

That question caught him off guard. Jackson frowned at Derek, trying to calm his racing heart. He couldn’t think of a single time when someone asked him what he wanted. Vincent never did, as he only gave out orders to better his magic. David and Diana Whittemore certainly never asked him if he wanted to move out to California and live in Beacon Hills, surrounded by werewolves. He knew it all had to be done, though. He needed to better his magic. He needed to keep his Pennsylvania pack safe.

What he wanted was never taken into the equation. As he got older, Jackson realized why that was. It was his sole purpose to wander alone, keeping others safe from him and the hell he could bring. For the next five years, Derek would be part of his pack, with Artemis, Stiles and Zeus. Once he turned twenty-one, he would have to leave. The only want he had was to keep everyone safe. He was certain that was all he ever wanted.

Instead of saying any of that, Jackson just shrugged. “What I want is irrelevant,” he said and sat back, ignoring the way Derek glared at him and the way Stiles stared, as though unable to believe what he was hearing. “You all know that a snow wolf lives a lonely life. That’s probably why Vincent gave me Zeus and Artemis.”

“That doesn’t have to be the case, Jacks,” Stiles whispered and turned his eyes to the table. “You could stay here and be happy.”

Jackson shrugged again, turning his eyes to Derek. “I gave that thought a moment of time. What happened? I turned a werewolf into a wolf-shifter, without his permission. And I gave us both up for auction.”

Derek growled and his eyes flashed ice green. Jackson stood up and stepped onto the table as the wood from the wall behind him got ready to pierce his back. He crouched in front of Derek and flicked his forehead, shaking his head. That anger of his was going to cause a lot of problems.

“If you decide to stay as a wolf-shifter, you’ll master earth before ice,” Jackson said and slipped off the table. He looked at the wooden spike. “Fix it.”

“I don’t…even know how I did that,” Derek said and frowned. “How do I fix it?”

Stiles grinned. “You need to feel your magic. Everyone’s magic feels different for them. My metal magic feels smooth, like it’s coating my veins. My fire magic, burns, but it’s a nice burn,” he explained and then looked at Jackson.

“My ice magic feels like ice swimming through my veins. My healing magic tingles and sort of tickles me. The rest of it feels like a buzzing, like a great energy is building.” Jackson shrugged. “So you need to figure out what feelings represent your magic.”

Derek stared at his hands, eyes narrowed in concentration. Jackson glanced at Stiles, who shrugged at him. Neither realized that training a brand new shifter would be difficult. Of course, both forgot that they were born the way they were and knew what their magics felt like before they even knew what they could do.

“Don’t think,” Jackson said as he rested against the table, crossing his arms. “You did it while you were angry with me. Our magic reacts to our emotions, which is why when I’m angry, I can create a blizzard. I mean, I can do that anyway, but with emotions fueling the magic, they’re typically stronger.”

Stiles tilted his head. “Or you could think of it this way – you used anger to destroy, so maybe a happier emotion to fix or create?” he offered and Jackson looked at him, smiling. That was a damn good way to look at it.

“Think of the love you have for your pack or that your pack has for you,” Jackson said and Derek’s eyes snapped to his. He shrugged. “It’s what I used when I was seven and I destroyed my room. I thought of the love I had for my dogs and I was able to fix everything I broke.”

Derek looked between the pair of shifters. Stiles had an encouraging smile on his face, while Jackson watched him apathetically. If Derek couldn’t do it, he had no issue with fixing the house. The werewolf frowned and turned his attention back to the wooden spike that was attached to the wall behind where Jackson sat. Instead of fixing the wall, the table grew a spike, which Jackson caught and snapped off. He shook his head.

“Don’t let your anger rule you, Hale,” he snapped, which made Derek glare at him. Jackson slapped away an ice spike and shook his head. “Control your emotions or you’ll hurt someone.”

Jackson watched as Derek closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The wood pulled back and the wall fixed itself. When Derek opened his eyes, Jackson smiled at him and patted his head. Derek slumped in his chair and Jackson knew what that felt like. Using a new magic for the first time was always draining. The more Derek used it, the easier it would become. If he used too much at once, it would begin aging him.

Lowering his eyes, the smile fell from his face. He looked at the hand Derek placed on his thigh. “Go back to being a werewolf, Derek,” he said and pushed off the table, leaving the kitchen.

“Jacks…”

Jackson ignored Derek, calling to his dogs and walking out the front door. With Derek as a werewolf, they could get around the whole lifespan difference. That didn’t make it any easier to tell Derek to give up being the same species as him. Though, werewolves ran hot and Jackson got the feeling that winter nights would be very cozy, if he could let the werewolf into his life.

“Hey,” Derek said and placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, turning him. “What was that about? Two hours ago, you were telling me it was my decision and whatever you wanted didn’t matter. Now, you’re telling me to give up the magic and become a werewolf?”

“Being a werewolf is what you’re used to.” Derek frowned at him and Jackson inhaled sharply. Biting his lower lip, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. “Magic is both a blessing and a curse for shifters,” he said softly, shivering as he felt Derek’s arms around his waist. “I’d rather you lose half my lifeforce, so I can return it, than you using too much magic and aging before me.”

Derek turned his head and frowned into Jackson’s throat. “Isn’t your lifeforce what caused all of this?”

“No,” Jackson answered, staring at the door to the house. “The mixing of our DNAs is what caused it. As long as you’re not choking on blood and I’m not crying again, I can gift half of my life to you.”

Derek pulled back and stared at Jackson. “Why? You’ve been pushing me away since before you even got to the house. Why would you do that?”

Jackson stepped back and shrugged. “If you want to look a gift horse in the mouth, fine. It’s no skin off my nose.”

“You’re damn right I’m gonna look this horse in the mouth,” Derek growled and narrowed his eyes. “Why? What do you get out of it?”

Jackson flinched and stepped back from Derek. The werewolf looked appalled at what he said and tried to step forward to soothe the hurt that Jackson knew was radiating off his body. “Zeus!”

Derek froze as the dog snarled at him, eyes trained on the area between his legs. “Jackson, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, you did. You meant that.” Jackson swallowed and shook his head. “You know what I get out of it? My mate by my side, unable to die to werewolf hunters!” he shouted, storm clouds rolling in. Derek stepped back as lightning struck the ground in front of him. “I’m sorry I wanted that for you! _Kráta ton_.”

“Jackson!” Derek called and went to step forward, only to freeze when Zeus barked and snapped at him.

Jackson shook his head and walked into the trees, Artemis by his side. He knew someone would be following him, just to make sure he didn’t get into trouble. He was fine with that, as long as it wasn’t Derek. Lowering his eyes, Jackson thought about the question. If he could divide his entire lifeforce between everyone he cared about, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Lightning streaked in front of him, petrifying a tree as he glared ahead. He made his way to the training area he created and sat in the center of it, glaring at anything. He was going to assume that’s why he didn’t get close to people. Stiles and Danny were the only ones that didn’t see him doing something as some type of underhanded attack. He wanted to be nice, but he knew that those he cared about would always be in constant danger.

“Jacks!”

Wiping his eyes, Jackson inhaled deeply. “Here, Stiles,” he called and smiled when the metal wolf burst into the training area. He laughed when Stiles launched at him, hugging him tightly.

“He shouldn’t have asked that,” Stiles said, shoving Jackson down and continuing to hug him. “At least you finally admitted that he’s your mate.”

Jackson sniffed and nodded. “Of course I had to do it while he was being a dick. I think that magic is playing havoc with his emotions.”

Stiles nuzzled Jackson’s cheek and Jackson wrapped his arms around Stile’ waist. He hated how warm the metal wolf was. It almost didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t the first time in his life he wished he had a different element to play with, aside from air, snow and ice. Each of them were as cold as the last and he just wanted to create his own warmth, instead of relying on central heating or others.

“It seems that way,” Stiles said, once he finished applying his scent all over Jackson’s cheek. “You probably shouldn’t have had Zeus bail him up, though. I thought those dogs liked him.”

“That doesn’t mean they’ll disobey me if I give them an order,” Jackson said with a shrug. “Besides, he fears Zeus and his ability to castrate.” He sighed and sat up.

“I heard what you said to him,” Stiles said as he picked up a birch leaf. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to give him half your lifeforce?”

Jackson chewed his lower lip and shrugged. If Stiles was asking him that, it meant there was something he hadn’t considered. “His life will be over in the blink of an eye for me,” he said and lowered his eyes. “But when I think about giving him half my lifeforce, I think about his family.”

“A quarter of eternity is still a long time,” Stiles said and grinned. “You could magically protect them.”

Jackson glared and stood up. “I don’t know how! I can barely keep the protection up for Artemis and Zeus. I’ve been trying to use less magic when it comes to that, but…I’m still only sixteen.” He growled as he paced, wishing Vincent was there to help him with that.

“Shouldn’t it be like changing the weather?” Stiles suggested and sighed as Jackson turned his glare to him. “You can create blizzards and thunderstorms like it’s as easy as breathing. You can heal wounds and keep someone almost completely pain free for months, but you can’t cast a couple of protection spells? You control lightning!”

Jackson’s anger died off and he stared at Stiles, trying to understand why he shouted the part about lightning. Anyone that controlled the weather could control the elements that came from that. It wasn’t anything special, as there were shifters that could control and create their own lightning within their bodies. If he could do that, he would think himself special.

Upon seeing his confusion, Stiles groaned and rolled his eyes. “Lightning is the most volatile element to work with. I know, I tried it myself.” Jackson frowned, thinking back to when Stiles attempted controlling lightning. “I was six, at the time. I nearly killed myself.”

“Probably because you were _six_ and trying to handle an element like that!” Jackson stared at Stiles, horrified that he would try something so young. “I never once used lightning until after puberty. How have you survived this long?” He was both fascinated and terrified of Stiles. The metal wolf had little regard for his life, if meant he could test a new spell.

Stiles shrugged. “My Mom could control lightning and create it. I wanted to be close with her, so I tried it myself. I could create it, but I didn’t know what to do with it after that.” He half-smiled and sighed. “So, when you were going through puberty and I saw the thunderstorm gather in the bedroom and the lightning…I heard it crash outside the house today.”

“You can create it?” Stiles nodded. “Why haven’t you been using it when we spar? That’s awesome!”

Stiles blinked and Jackson laughed when he smelled embarrassed pride. “You can create it, too.”

“No, I need to create a thunderstorm. I can use the lightning from that.” Jackson shook his head and sighed. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Stilinski. That’s insulting.”

Stiles smirked and Jackson’s eyes widened when he saw gold lightning manifesting in the hand of the metal wolf. It sizzled and cracked, before it was released into the sky. It was beautiful, as it streaked across the clouds and disappeared. He frowned when he smelled burning flesh and looked at Stiles, seeing smoke coming from his hand. He shook his head and placed a glowing hand over the burn, watching as the skin mended. That could explain why Stiles didn’t use it.

“How can you create it, but not know how to use it?” he asked and checked Stiles’ hand, making sure it was healed and there was no pain.

“Lightning is fire in its purest form,” Stiles explain and tilted his head, flexing his fingers. “Fire itself I can handle. But lightning is so unstable that it scares me, especially when I remember what happened when I was six. I don’t want to feel that again.”

Jackson nodded as he listened to Stiles. “More hunters will be showing up,” he said and stared into Stiles’ eyes. “I don’t know when, but we both know they’re coming. You need to control it before then. If you hurt yourself, I can always heal you.”

Stiles pursed his lips as he gazed back at Jackson. “All right. I’ll do that, if you let Sourwolf into your heart,” he said and grinned when Jackson snarled. “Hey, I’m doing something that could kill me. You’re doing something that could kill him.”

Jackson lowered his eyes, glancing towards the house. While Stiles was right, Jackson wasn’t about to admit that and then have it so Talia lost a child. Not only was that so incredibly selfish of him, but Jackson knew what the pain felt like to lose his parents. He could only imagine how bad it must be for a parent to outlive their child.

“Just kiss him, Jacks,” Stiles said and Jackson covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the blush that spread over his cheeks. “If you don’t, _I_ will.

Jackson’s hands dropped and he straightened his head, staring at Stiles. The metal wolf smirked, which froze as a whip formed in Jackson’s hand. The nine tails of the whip were covered in ice hooks, designed to maim and torture and Stiles swallowed, nodding and backing away from the snow wolf. Jackson wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of Stiles kissing what was his and he certainly didn’t like the cold feeling that was spreading through his body.

Blinking, Jackson felt some warmth return to him and the whip vanished from his hand. “Don’t joke about that again,” he warned and snapped his fingers at Artemis, heading for the house. “I’ll consider the kiss, if he stops acting like a douchebag.”

“I think that’s all we can ask for, man,” Stiles said as he walked beside Jackson. “By the way, I’m thinking about moving into Peter’s room. I feel safer being closer to him.”

Jackson paused and stared at Stiles, tilting his head. “I make you feel unsafe?”

“God, no! You and your dogs make that room the safest, but around Peter…” Stiles shrugged and Jackson frowned, almost certain he saw a blush on the face of the metal wolf. “He makes me feel safe.”

Jackson cocked an eyebrow and smirked, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulders. “Have you kissed him?”

“There’s six years between you and Sourwolf,” Stiles said and sighed. “There’s more years between me and Peter. I definitely have to wait another two years.”

Jackson nodded and squeezed the shoulders, dropping his arm as they approached the house. Derek was attempting to stare down Zeus, which just had Jackson laughing. That was a lost cause. Zeus wouldn’t submit to anyone his master told him to hold back. He admired Derek’s attempts, though. It took a lot of courage to try and intimidate a dog that could kill him as quickly as castrate him.

“Artemis, Zeus, _mésa_ ,” Jackson ordered and the dogs followed Stiles into the house. Derek’s eyes met his and the werewolf/wolf-shifter growled as he caught Stiles’ scent on him. “The magic is messing with your emotions more than I thought it would.”

“I’m a werewolf with the magic and power of a wolf-shifter in him,” Derek said and crossed his arms. “I’m so angry about everything and I’m terrified that I’m going to hurt someone.”

“That’s why I said to go back to being a werewolf.” Jackson sighed softly and rubbed his throat. “I’ll work on the protection spell, so see if I can extend it to you and your family. And if you want it, I can give you half my lifeforce again. Without our DNAs being present, it should just increase your senses, speed and strength.”

Derek’s head cocked to the side for a moment, as though his neck twitched. “And I won’t have to worry about magic or shielding my mind?”

“Yes, to the magic. You should learn to shield your mind, anyway. All of you should. Hunters do have telepaths working with them.” Jackson’s eyes dropped to Derek’s throat, before he turned his head and looked at the trees. “We should have been done that when we first arrived. I don’t think we realized how bad the danger would be, though.”

“What was your first clue to that?” Derek asked, his eyes flashing. He gritted his teeth and Jackson nodded. “I hate this, Jackson. I hate what it’s doing to me.”

“Welcome to the life of a shifter, Sparky,” Jackson said as he stepped past Derek and patted his shoulder. “Tsuki will probably show up soon, unless you haven’t made a decision.”

Derek grabbed Jackson and pinned him to the ground. He glared into Jackson’s eyes, who frowned at him. “Get him here… _now_!”

“I am already here, Derek.” Tsuki crouched beside them and turned Derek’s head, searching his eyes. “You definitely had a violent reaction to the magic.”

“Cool,” Jackson said and looked at the demon. “Change him back to a werewolf.”

“Is that your decision, Derek?” Tsuki inquired and Derek’s eyes flashed blue. “I do not have a soul for you to torture. I am a demon.”

The blue died from Derek’s eyes as he breathed heavily, releasing his grip on Jackson’s shirt. “Yes, that’s my decision.”

Tsuki tilted his head, before he took hold of Derek’s jaw and pressed a kiss to the werewolf’s forehead. Jackson’s eyes widened as he felt his lifeforce returning to his body. He shivered and exhaled sharply, feeling it merge with the remaining life in him. After a few seconds, everything settled down and Derek closed his eyes, sitting back, regardless of the fact he was on Jackson’s thighs.

“Thank you,” Derek whispered and Tsuki nodded.

“Wait at least two days before you transfer the lifeforce, Jackson,” Tsuki said, brushing surprisingly warm fingers over Jackson’s forehead. “If you transfer it before then, it will not end well for either of you.”

Jackson nodded and blinked when Tsuki vanished. Derek leaned forward, opening his eyes and staring into Jackson’s, who was still gazing at where the demon had been. He was expecting something a little more dazzling from a demon that was disappearing. He was expecting sparkles or anything, except being there and then not. While he didn’t know much about demons, he assumed they were flashy creatures.

Blinking, Jackson turned his head and went to shove Derek back. He really needed Stiles to master his lightning and being that close to Derek wasn’t… _unpleasant_ , but he had grown so accustomed to pushing the werewolf away that it was second nature. It was nice to see the hazel-green eyes, rather than the swirling neon blue-ice green eyes of a wolf-shifter. The scent was nice, too.

Jackson cleared his throat and gently pushed Derek back, not wanting to be that close to the werewolf. He sat up and Derek stood, looking around, as though trying to find something. Jackson was guessing that the extra-high definition of a shifter was gone and Derek was getting used to his werewolf sight again. He was going to assume he was right as Derek tilted his head back and scented the air and his ears twitched. Jackson cocked his head to the side, watching him.

Derek closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He exhaled and looked at Jackson. “I never thought it would feel so good to be without magic,” he said and Jackson nodded. “How do you handle that?”

“You remember my puberty?” Derek frowned, but nodded slowly. “That’s how. Our magic is what kept tearing us apart and putting us back together.” Jackson shrugged. “It settled everything within us. It awakened our hidden magic and made our bodies strong enough to handle it.” He turned towards the house, but threw a smirk over his shoulder. “And we’ve been shifters our entire lives.”

* * *

“Come _on_ , Stiles!” Jackson said, unable to keep the exasperation from his voice. “I’m a _snow_ wolf and I’ve got a better handle on my lightning.”

Storm clouds gathered and Jackson let the lightning flow from the sky, into his arm. It hovered over his palm, almost like liquid silver. Stiles gritted his teeth and created his gold lightning, crying out as it burned his hand, which had Jackson sighing. Jackson released his back into the sky, where it cracked and rumbled. He took Stiles’ lightning from his hand, holding it on his right hand, while his left hand glowed a pale blue and healed the burn.

“You’re the one that said it’s volatile,” Jackson said as he held up the gold lightning. “You can’t fear it or it’ll swallow you.”

Stiles looked like a kicked puppy and Jackson closed his fingers around the lightning, which had Stiles’ eyes widening. Opening his hand, Jackson showed that it was gone and there wasn’t a burn on him. Stiles nodded and his shoulders slumped. Jackson didn’t have the experience that Stiles did with lightning and he was going to assume that meant he was a bad teacher. He didn’t fear the raw element, but he couldn’t create it within his body.

Swallowing, Stiles straightened his shoulders and created the lightning in his hand. Jackson could hear his heart beating frantically, which had him worried that something bad was going to happen. If Stiles couldn’t keep calm while handling his lightning, it could be disastrous. The metal wolf exhaled shakily and the lightning pulsated in his hand, before it shot out and Stiles yelled out in pain and surprise.

Jackson shook his head, which released the water in the clouds, dowsing the flames that came from Stiles’ lightning. Once the fires were out, Jackson stopped the rain and tilted his head at Stiles. Something about lightning was terrifying him and Jackson wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of what happened ten years ago. It couldn’t be that simple. There was something else that was holding Stiles back from embracing the power.

“Create it and shoot it at me,” Jackson said and backed away from Stiles.

The metal wolf shook his head and Jackson narrowed his eyes. Peter and Derek watched from the porch, their worry spiking at the order. Jackson repeated it and Stiles bit his lower lip, creating his lightning. Just after it was fully formed in his hand, Stiles threw it at Jackson, who caught it, his eyes flashing silver. The lightning turned into a snow flurry and Stiles’ eyes widened.

“It’s just magic, Stiles,” Jackson said and smiled. “You don’t need to fear your magic.”

Jackson pulled his lightning from the sky and shot it at Stiles, who screamed and ducked. Jackson’s eyes widened and he recalled it before it made contact with the porch, gritting his teeth as he pulled it back to his body. He released it at the sky and groaned softly, rolling his right shoulder. He stared at Stiles, who was looking up from the ground. Derek was about to step down and Jackson glared at him, which had the werewolf staying where he was.

“Fire is your element,” Jackson snapped at Stiles, who sat down and nodded. Jackson winced as his right shoulder jerked. “If I can catch your lightning, you can catch mine.” He gasped as he felt the electricity crackle along the joint. “Stop fearing it!”

Stiles glared at Jackson and stood up. “You don’t understand!” he shouted, flames appearing around his body. “I could _die_ from using the lightning!”

“So could I!” Jackson cracked his shoulder and gathered the remaining lightning into his hand. “You fear lightning the way I fear letting people close to me,” he stated and the flames died from around Stiles. “Except I don’t have to worry about me dying. I just have to worry about those I _love_ dying.” He lowered his eyes a moment. “You’re one of those, Stiles.” He looked up with a glare. “So wolf up and catch this fucking lightning!”

Jackson threw the lightning at Stiles, who raised a wall of gold to let the lightning crackle over. Jackson sighed and shook his head. He had tried everything he could when it came to Stiles and his fear of lightning. It seemed that nothing was going to help him with it. At least no one could say he didn’t try. It hadn’t been a full day since their discussion, but he was trying to let Derek in.

“If you can create it, you can control it,” Jackson said as he ripped back the wall and stared at Stiles. “Why don’t you believe in yourself? You’re better than some fear.”

“No, I’m not! If I can’t control it, I could kill everyone around me.” Stiles closed his eyes and Jackson frowned.

“No,” Jackson said and placed a hand on the metal wolf’s shoulder. “You told me hunters killed your mom.” Stiles opened his eyes and Jackson hugged him tightly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“That was the first and only time I tried to control it,” Stiles admitted as he returned the hug. “She had to take her attention away from the hunters and that’s when they killed her.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jackson said, closing his eyes. “You were trying to help. It just didn’t work that way that time.”

Stiles cried quietly and Jackson knew he couldn’t help him with the pain and guilt. He stepped to the side and let Peter take over, leading the metal wolf into the house. Jackson rubbed his arms as he watched Stiles disappear through the door, before he sighed and the storm clouds vanished, letting out the sun again. He glanced at Derek, who was staring at him.

“Maybe you should listen to your own words, Jackson,” Derek said and Jackson frowned. “The hunter that killed your parents. It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, that was my fault. My parents were in the hunter’s way of me. I couldn’t do anything to help them.” Jackson walked up the stoop and rested against the porch railing beside Derek. “Stiles tried to help his mother. At least he got six years with her. He has some memories of her.”

Derek nodded, resting his arm against Jackson’s as he leaned on the railing. “You can’t blame yourself for that forever, Jackson,” he said gently and Jackson shrugged. “How could you know?”

“That’s my first and only memory of my mother, Hale. I didn’t even see my father. I have no idea what he looks like. I don’t know how much is my mother and how much is my father.” Jackson lowered his eyes. “I don’t even know how much of me is you.”

“It isn’t my fault you look good like this.” Jackson glared at Derek, who just smiled at him. Derek ran a finger across the bridge of Jackson’s nose and along the cheek. “I _really_ like the freckles,” he said and Jackson shook his head.

“You made me a twink. I don’t know if I should audition for a gay porno or just sell my ass on the corner.” Jackson sighed and looked out over the yard, ignoring the way Derek growled at him. “There’s a storm coming,” he said.

“It’s been brewing for a while,” Derek agreed, taking Jackson’s hand, who pulled it away and turned his back to the trees. “Who are you thinking about?”

Jackson lowered his eyes. “You, your family, Lydia and Danny. I don’t have to worry about my dogs and I don’t think the Argents are in danger.” He kept his eyes down as he felt Derek staring at him, straightening.

“What about you?” Derek asked and Jackson refused to shiver under the heavy hand between his shoulders. “Why aren’t you thinking about yourself, as well?”

“I’ve got a demon protect me, Sparky. I don’t think he’s going to let me die.” Jackson glanced at Derek from the corner of his eye, still feeling the werewolf watching him. “We have, at the most, two months before they show up. They probably don’t know where we are, but it won’t take them long to trace the connection.”

Derek nodded and entered the house, leaving Jackson to shiver at the loss of his presence and warmth.

* * *

Stiles had moved into Peter’s bedroom a few days later, leaving Jackson alone in the bedroom. Without Stiles around, Jackson found it too big for him and it was empty. He found himself staring out the window again, his dogs asleep behind him. Getting used to sharing a room didn’t take as long as it did to get used to an empty room. Jackson missed having Stiles in the room, even if they didn’t speak much before going to bed. It was just nice to have another supernatural in the room.

“You could always move into Derek’s room,” Stiles said one night, Jackson staring out the window.

“He won’t allow the dogs on the bed,” Jackson said and turned around. Stiles was looking much better than he was a few days ago. He looked happier, as though some weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Stiles shrugged. “You could share the bed with him, instead,” he suggested and Jackson rolled his eyes. “You said you would let him into your heart.”’

“No, I said I’d let him into my life. I spoke to him today.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Saying ‘good morning’ isn’t speaking to someone. It doesn’t matter if words constitute speaking. Did you tell him about practice?”

Jackson glared down at the floor. He wasn’t going to tell anyone in the house that Coach Finstock had lost his shit at him, because he was distracted. His form was sloppy, he couldn’t stop an attack to save his life, he kept tackling his own teammates and he tripped over Danny four times. The last time he played that badly was when he was first learning the game. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was bumped from the next game.

“Spend the night in his bed, _with_ him and we can work on my lightning tomorrow,” Stiles said and Jackson sighed, nodding. If he could help Stiles with his lightning, he’d screw Derek. “All right. Goodnight, Jacks.”

“Night,” Jackson said listlessly.

Stiles moved out of the threshold of the room and Jackson turned back to the window. He rested his forehead against the cool glass and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to spend the night in Derek’s room. That was going a little too far for his liking, but if it meant Stiles would work on his lightning, he would do it. Sleeping in the bed, though…

Chewing his lower lip, Jackson pulled back from the window. His clothing changed to his pajamas and he went into the hallway. His dogs followed him, almost pointing towards the stairs. He could feel their confusion as he moved up the hallway and knocked on Derek’s door. The werewolf had removed his shirt and was gazing at Jackson, as though surprised to see him there.

Jackson lowered his eyes, before he closed them. He was going to make Stiles regret this. “Can I spend the night in here?” he asked quietly and heard Stiles laugh. He stepped back and glared down the hallway, eyes flashing blue. Stiles yelped and Jackson smirked. “Enjoy sleeping around _that_ wet spot.”

“Not cool, Jacks,” Stiles said and Jackson grinned, turning his attention back to Derek.

“So can I?”

Derek frowned and stepped to the side. “Dogs are to stay on the floor,” he said and Jackson rolled his eyes.

After giving Zeus and Artemis a hug, Jackson got onto the bed, turning his back to the room as Derek finished undressing. He heard the werewolf clear his throat, asking the dogs to stop staring at him. Jackson laughed and looked over his shoulder, seeing that Artemis and Zeus were staring at Derek. There was nothing aggressive in their eyes, but he knew that being watched while undressing could make someone uncomfortable.

“Artemis, Zeus,” Jackson said and the dogs looked at him, as though expecting a command. Jackson kept his eyes on the dogs, even though he was super tempted to glance at Derek. “ _Synechíste na parakoloutheíte kai na koimáste ótan chreiázetai._ ” The dogs laid down as Derek stepped onto the bed. “Sorry. I forget that I don’t need to undress anymore.”

“It’s fine. I still don’t trust Zeus.” Derek sat down and Jackson’s eyes widened at how much the bed moved. The werewolf grabbed a book and Jackson got under the covers.

“I don’t see why you don’t trust him,” Jackson said as he got as comfortable as he could on a new mattress. “It isn’t like he attacked you recently.”

Derek glared at Jackson. “You had him bail me up five days ago,” he snapped, watching as Jackson beat the pillows, before resting his head on them.

“No, I told him to hold you there,” Jackson explained, ripping the covers up from under Derek. “Don’t you have any heating in this room?”

“I’m a werewolf,” Derek said, growling when Jackson continued to move around. “Would you settle down?”

Jackson stared up at Derek, before he shifted around again and smirked as another growl sounded. “It isn’t my fault you picked out the worst mattress in the world.”

“I haven’t had an issue with it since I got it.” Derek sighed as Jackson continued to move. “What are you doing under there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jackson grinned wickedly up at Derek, as he continued to rub his arms and legs together, trying to gain warmth through friction.

“If you’re going to do anything, keep it down or soundproof the room,” Peter said and Stiles snickered.

“First off, ew,” Cora said and Jackson was certain she covered her ears with her pillow. “Secondly, double ew! I don’t need those images before bed, Uncle Peter!”

Jackson laughed. “Don’t worry about a thing, Cora. I’m sure I can muffle my screams into a pillow.”

“Oh, goddamn it, Jackson!” Cora shuddered with horror.

Derek sighed and shook his head. “Would you please stop moving? I need to study this before I write up a report on it.”

“Not my fault you don’t have any heating in here.” Jackson frowned as he realized he was getting closer to Derek, the only heat source on the bed.

“Jesus Christ, just use his body,” Stiles said. “I can hear your rubbing from here!”

Derek groaned and slipped under the covers, pulling Jackson to his body. Jackson shivered and pressed in a little closer than he wanted to admit. Derek ran unbelievably hot, which had him wrapping his legs around Derek’s and nuzzling into his chest. His hands slipped under the shirt Derek was wearing and he heard the werewolf’s breath hitch, before Jackson apologized.

“I didn’t expect you to be that cold,” Derek said, frowning as Jackson rubbed his cheek against his chest. “Are you…scenting me?”

“I’m trying to make you warmer. There’s a reason Stiles nearly burned himself out trying to warm me.” Jackson stopped moving, listening to Derek’s heart.

Derek opened the book and snarled when Jackson rolled over him. “Now what are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable again.” Jackson nuzzled up to Derek’s throat, before settled down on his chest again.

Derek frowned and raised his arms, abdomen tensing as he felt the cold hands on his skin again. Jackson hummed and Derek raised an eyebrow, lowering his arms and trying to start reading again. He sighed when Jackson rolled on top of him, pressing his face into his throat. Even the breath was cold. After getting his arms comfortable around Jackson, Derek started reading the book.

Jackson sighed and rolled onto his back, which had Derek groaning as elbows and hips dug into sensitive areas. He growled and pinned Jackson to the bed, resting on his elbows as he read the book. Jackson squirmed under him and Derek glared down at him. He sighed when he realized that Jackson wasn’t going to settle down until he did, so he closed the book and turned off the lamp.

“Better?” Derek asked as he laid on his side.

Jackson stretched his arms above his head, before he gathered the covers around himself and nestled into Derek. He took a few more minutes to move around, getting himself comfortable, before he said, “Yes. Goodnight.”

“About time,” Peter muttered and Jackson’s eyes flashed blue. He smirked when Peter yelped. “Not cool, Jackson!”

“Go to sleep, Jackson,” Derek said and placed his hand on Jackson’s neck, feeling him shiver and relax under the touch. “From what I heard, you have a busy day tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Now a word to the sponsors.
> 
> Reddy_no_1: Aww, thank you so much for that comment! It truly made my day. And honestly, if it's the weekend, I say live a little. There's nothing wrong with staying up a little later than usual to enjoy something you love. Honestly, with the way they were raised, I think they were forced to mature way too quickly. I've been trying to give them moments where they could relax and be teenagers, but those moments are few and far apart. As for Derek, we know he's a giant romantic. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Tpadimo: Muchas gracias por ese comentario. Me alegra que lo hayas disfrutado (aunque siento que hayas estado leyendo mis otros trabajos. Lol) Espero que hayas disfrutado este capítulo y no puedo esperar a tener noticias tuyas nuevamente.
> 
> Bernard: Como arriba, muchas gracias por el comentario. ¡Me alegra que lo hayas disfrutado y espero que también lo hayas disfrutado! Lamento las lentas actualizaciones, pero creo que estoy empezando a tener un poco de bloqueo del escritor. Sin embargo, intentaré actualizar con más frecuencia. No hago promesas.
> 
> To everyone that left kudos, you rock! To those that bookmarked, you rock as well!
> 
> Until the next one, my lovelies!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	12. Through the Eyes of a Werewolf

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

The bedroom door opening woke Jackson and Derek. For some reason, Derek’s front felt cold, while his back was almost sweating from the added heat. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed when he saw that Zeus was on the bed, again. Turning his eyes to the front, Derek blinked at Jackson, who still had his eyes closed and breathing deeply. He had forgotten that he fell asleep with Jackson in his bed and he wondered how something like that could slip his mind.

Derek frowned as something cold and wet touched a bare shoulder. He knew for a fact that he fell asleep with a shirt on, as Jackson was sharing his bed. Looking over his shoulder again, he found Zeus nudging him, as though trying to tell him something. Derek didn’t speak ‘dog’ and definitely didn’t speak Greek. If Zeus wanted something, he would need to wake his master.

Jackson inhaled deeply and pressed closer, shivering under the covers. The door opened again and Derek looked at it, seeing Laura there. She gently called to the dogs. Artemis stood up and stretched, while Zeus rested his head on Derek’s shoulder and gazing at Laura, as though he wanted to listen to her. Somehow, it didn’t surprise Derek that Zeus was a lot like Jackson – he would move, but that meant moving.

“Zeus,” Laura called softly and sharply.

“ _Exo_ ,” Jackson muttered and pulled up the covers more.

Zeus jumped over the pair and stretched after he landed. Once the door closed, Derek waited for his back to cool a little, before he pulled back the covers. Jackson had fallen asleep again and Derek glanced at the time. It was just past six in the morning, which made the question of why Laura was taking the dogs out. He wasn’t going to complain too much, though.

Deciding that a little more sleep couldn’t hurt, Derek closed his eyes. He frowned as Jackson murmured something and rolled over. There was a moment of peace, before Derek had to open his eyes and found that Jackson was sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms above his head. Without a glance back at him, Jackson stood and left the bedroom. In a few minutes, he heard the shower turn on and figured that Jackson was getting ready for the day.

In the kitchen, Derek could hear his mother and Laura getting breakfast ready. Stiles was humming in his sleep, something he did before he woke. Checking the date on his phone, Derek sighed when he saw that it was Tuesday. The shifters were getting ready for school and Derek knew they had an away game that weekend, which wasn’t sitting well with him. It wouldn’t take much for the hunters to find the schedule for the team.

Burying his face into his pillows, Derek closed his eyes. He frowned when he realized that he could smell Jackson so strongly. Raising his head, he found that he face planted the pillow Jackson used. He had done that without realizing it and shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed. It had his, Jackson’s and Zeus’s scent on all of it. He had to question why he never felt Zeus step onto the bed. It wasn’t like Zeus was a small dog, head coming up to Derek’s hip and he wasn’t a lightweight dog, either.

Peter woke and began speaking softly with Stiles, which had Derek glaring at the wall. He still hated the relationship that Peter had with the metal wolf. Every time he thought he was getting somewhere with Jackson, the snow wolf shoved him away, regardless of how much it hurt him. Closing his eyes, Derek smiled as he thought about when Jackson hugged him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. He really wished he could see that side of Jackson far more often than he did.

Opening his eyes, Derek stared down at the floor of his room. He understood Jackson’s apprehension towards feeling happy and letting his guard down. He understood the fear. That didn’t mean he had to like it or accept it. Jackson had to realize that he wasn’t going anywhere, now or in five years. Derek would be damned if he was going to let that shifter walk away from him.

Looking at his hands, Derek curled his fingers. Jackson had cried for him, thinking he was going to die. Of course, there were a few other reasons that could have made him cry, but Derek liked to believe it was because he was dying that made Jackson cry. If he hadn’t cried, the whole shifter/werewolf thing wouldn’t have happened, though. Maybe it was a good thing that Jackson was usually so in control of his emotions.

The shower turned off and the bathroom door opened. Staring at his bedroom door, Derek shook his head. Jackson literally had no reason to come back to the room. That was made obvious when he heard the light footfalls of the shifter going downstairs. Morning greetings were said and Derek heard a chair moving. A few minutes later, Peter’s door opened and the bathroom door closed. The shower was turned on again.

Glancing at the pillow Jackson used, Derek shook his head. He stood up and stretched, making his way downstairs. He and Peter would watch the shifters during school and then for practice. Derek looked at the book he needed to write a report on and closed his eyes. Peter could probably watch the shifters alone for a little bit. He couldn’t let his own schooling fail, because of his protector duties. Though, watching Jackson wasn’t exactly a chore. Looking for potential threats was the problem.

After grabbing a cup of coffee, Derek rested against the breakfast counter, which he realized was repaired. He remembered destroying it and didn’t know who fixed it. He wasn’t going to ask, eyes focusing on Jackson, who was smiling at Laura. His eyes slid over to his mother, who was watching with a gentle curve to her lips as Jackson spoke about the chemistry test they had that day. Sometimes, it surprised Derek how intelligent Jackson and Stiles were. They were shifters and could use their magic to coast by in life. He wasn’t sure if that idea ever occurred to them or not.

His eyes were drawn back to Jackson, who was eating a strawberry and licking the juice from his lower lip. A growl, whether possessive or angered at the unconscious teasing, bubbled in his chest and Derek swallowed it. He wasn’t about to have Jackson glaring at him. The sad thing was, Jackson ignoring him was far better than fighting with the shifter. When Jackson ignored him, Derek could observe him and pick up his mannerisms. He could tell by the way Jackson held his shoulders how he was feeling. He could tell by the way his eyes crinkled if he was holding back laughter or not. The way he spoke passionately about his school subjects and especially lacrosse made Derek feel the warmth of the words.

Dropping his eyes to his coffee, Derek mentally shook his head. He wanted to question why he felt Jackson was his mate. It would be far easier if they rejected each other and moved on with their lives. Derek could find a nice werewolf to settle down with and Jackson… He could wander the world, alone and constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for the next attack to come.

Raising his eyes, Derek stared at Jackson. The shifter was laughing with Laura, as they spoke of all the ways Jackson and Stiles could cheat on their tests. Jackson’s eyes dropped to his phone as it chimed, eyes lighting up in a way Derek never saw when Jackson was looking at him. It was jealousy, pure and simple that Jackson’s friends got that reaction from him, while he had to fight to get Jackson to _acknowledge_ him. Maybe that was why he liked arguing with Jackson. It was the only time Jackson’s attention was focused solely on him.

Stiles entered the kitchen and sat beside Jackson, breaking Derek’s line of sight. He sighed silently and went back to gazing at his coffee. Stiles ate the pancakes that appeared in front of him, gesturing around as he spoke about the game that weekend. Derek heard the excited beating to the shifters’ hearts. Both of them were looking forward to the game, despite the danger it posed to the rest of the team. Derek wanted to mention that, but reminded himself that he wasn’t going to argue with Jackson before school. He also wasn’t going to argue with Jackson while Zeus was still inside the house.

Jackson had his arm on Stiles’ shoulder, fingers brushing the muscle between neck and shoulder. It was light and delicate, as though Jackson wanted to offer some comfort. Stiles arm was resting near Jackson’s neck, the back of his fingers grazing along the jaw and cheek. Derek felt that growl rising again and glared down at the counter. He detested the fact that Jackson and Stiles were that close that those touches didn’t mean anything. It was just something they did naturally.

Derek kept his eyes down, working on keeping his scent neutral as Jackson stood and stepped behind the counter. He heard coffee being poured and glanced at Jackson from the corner of his eye when he thought he felt fingers brush against his hip. Jackson’s scent didn’t change at the light touch and Derek wasn’t entirely sure if it happened or if he was that jealous he would imagine it. Jackson sat down at the table again, placing a mug in front of Stiles. Jackson was even getting coffee for the metal wolf.

Peter entered the kitchen, pausing when he saw the way the shifters were touching each other. He shook his head and got himself a cup of coffee, standing beside Derek, eyes focused on Stiles. Both knew that the shifters were close, there was a love neither of them could break and neither of them wanted to break it. Still, Derek didn’t want to smell Stiles on Jackson and he knew Peter felt the same way about Jackson on Stiles.

When Stiles’ hand slid across Jackson’s shoulders and down his spine, Derek growled before he could stop it. His wolf was almost fully out, surging forward, wanting to kill the one that would touch its mate so familiarly, so intimately. Closing his eyes, Derek calmed down. He could feel everyone staring at him, wanting to know what caused him to threaten Stiles. Swallowing, Derek opened his eyes when he calmed down and finished his coffee.

No one said anything and Stiles’ hand didn’t move from where it rested on Jackson’s lower back. When nothing was said, the shifters shrugged and returned to their conversation about the best plan of attack for the game. Laura offered the suggestion of actual murder, which had Jackson grinning a little psychotically. Stiles tilted his head, as though giving it serious consideration.

Laura stood up, telling the shifters to get their bags. Talia walked with Laura and the shifters outside. The moment they were alone, Derek glanced at Peter. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“I understand, nephew,” Peter said as he turned around and rested against the counter. “I had to stop myself when I saw Jackson’s hand on Stiles. Maybe having mates that are close with others was a bad idea.”

Derek nodded, knowing he would need to apologize to Stiles. That was something that could wait until after practice, when Derek could watch Jackson assert his authority over the rest of the team. Scott wasn’t posing much of a threat to the captaincy, even though he was using his werewolf abilities. He seemed far more interested in dating a werewolf hunter, which just had Derek shaking his head. He didn’t understand the teenage mind at times.

* * *

“All right, guys,” Finstock said as he walked up and down the line of players. “Suicides!”

Derek raised an eyebrow as Jackson jumped on the spot, eager to get moving. He remembered suicides from his basketball days and he understood the excitement of Jackson. Not surprisingly, Jackson led the group, oftentimes running backwards and shouting out encouragement to the others. He was showing the coach that he was the one true captain of the team.

“Move it, Greenberg,” Jackson snapped, jogging on the spot as the team passed him. “You’ve been told to work on your stamina.”

“Captain…” Greenberg said, a wheezing whine.

“Move it,” Jackson growled and joined the rest of the team, weaving his way between them. “Some help, McCall?”

“You seem like you got this, man,” Scott said, his eyes drifting over to the bleachers where Allison was sitting with Lydia.

Jackson rolled his eyes, pushing through to the front of the pack. “Knees up, guys,” he said and took them around the field five times, making sure their knees went up to their chests.

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles looked ready to collapse, which had him smirking. It looked like someone else needed to work on their stamina. With Scott constantly distracted by Allison, Jackson took full control over the runs. He barked orders, snapped out drills and led by example. Scott barely heard anything that was said to him and Derek had to wonder why he bothered with a sport, if he just wanted to get lucky with the girls.

“Danny,” Jackson said and slapped his best friend’s helmet. “Stop pouting and get those knees up.”

Derek blinked, wondering how Jackson had any friends on the team. He was a complete drill sergeant, demanding a lot more than most of the players could give him. The few that could keep up with him weren’t all that interested, namely Scott and Stiles. The humans on the team tried their hardest, but when they were against a werewolf and shifters, they fell really short of making an impression.

“Good leadership, Jackson,” Finstock said, a malicious gleam in his eyes as he watched his team practically collapse after the runs. “Five minutes, then scrimmage!”

Derek glanced at the bleachers when he felt eyes on him. Not surprisingly, Allison was staring at him. She wasn’t defensive or aggressive, mostly curious. Derek knew he should be in the trees, staying out of sight as much as possible. When it came to practice, after what happened four years ago, Derek wasn’t going to chance it. He needed to make sure Jackson and Stiles knew where he was at all times.

Lydia looked over and raised an eyebrow at him, before she asked Allison what was wrong. As Allison lied and said she wasn’t staring at him, Derek returned his eyes to Jackson. The shifter was stretching out his body, talking to Stiles about the history test coming up in the next two days. True to his word, Finstock called a scrimmage exactly five minutes later. The team split to home and away, nearly all of them groaning as they forced their bodies to move.

During the scrimmage was when Derek began to worry. Jackson seemed lost and confused on what he was doing, as though someone was scrambling with his brain. He kept looking around, as though he could feel someone watching him. He was tackled constantly, usually by Scott who seemed to enjoy taking pleasure in. Derek forced himself to stay where he was, instead of ripping that young werewolf into several pieces.

A gunshot rang out, which caused most of the players to stop their game and look around. Jackson was on his knees, holding his right arm. Derek felt the burn of the bullet passing through his shoulder and knew he would have a new scar on his body.

Finstock looked at him. “A gunshot wound isn’t going to get you out of this weekend’s game, Jackson,” he stated, crouching down and looking at the blood on the front of the jersey. “Okay, maybe.”

Jackson growled and glared at Finstock. “I’ll be fine for this weekend,” he stated.

Derek’s ears twitched when he heard the snapping of bones, knowing that Peter had found the hunter that likely had Jackson worried. The shifter stumbled to his feet and Derek forced his feet to stay where they were. It wouldn’t look right if he strode onto the field and carried Jackson off. Stiles offered to take him to the locker room and have a look at the ‘graze.’ Finstock raised an eyebrow, looking at the position of the exit hole.

Instead of arguing the fact that Jackson was clearly shot in the shoulder, Finstock nodded. Derek backed away and went around to the front of the school, knowing it would be mostly empty. He went to the locker room, watching as Jackson was ripping off his jersey and padding, furious at what happened. Derek stood behind him, looking at the entry wound. It was a good thing Finstock didn’t care about where he was shot or everyone would question how he was able to play that weekend.

“I knew I felt someone watching me,” Jackson muttered and glanced over his shoulder. “I think we missed a few of The Collectors.”

“Peter took care of them,” Derek said as he gently touched the area around the hole. “I think you need to stop afterschool practice. It seems you get injured more by hunters during that time.”

“Where’s the first aid kit?” Stiles asked, searching through Finstock’s office.

Jackson looked over his shoulder. “Heal it,” he said to Derek, who frowned at him,

“The last time I tried to do that, you threatened to rip my spine out through my throat,” Derek murmured with a smirk as Jackson glared.

Derek kept his heartrate normal as he leaned down, running his tongue over the entry wound. His eyes fluttered as he tasted Jackson’s blood, not surprised that it was sweet, thanks to the magic and tasted like ice. Jackson gasped, dropping his head. Derek knew it could be an erotic sensation, having his mate heal him, but the way Jackson reacted told him that was probably why Jackson didn’t want him near.

Stiles exited the office, holding the first aid kit and froze. Derek glanced at him and growled, wrapping his arms around Jacksons ribs, as more of his saliva went into the wound. Stiles cleared his throat as Jackson moaned, stepping back into the office and closing the door. Derek felt the wound closing over. A few seconds later, the back was flawless in terms of bullet scars. He turned Jackson around, trying to ignore the smell of lust and need coming from the shifter. He knew that if he did anything about it, Jackson would probably torture him.

Jackson’s hair was tussled from the helmet, messy and sweaty. His eyes were blown with lust and his magic had dropped. The silver-blue was a thin line around the pupils, teeth biting his lower lip. Derek’s eyes widened when he felt a hand on the flier of his jeans. The cool fingers that slipped into his trunks and gripped his hard cock should have been a reminder of what was happening, but then Jackson was biting his throat, breathing heavily in his ear and Derek didn’t give a shit.

The wound on the front was mostly healed and Derek was fighting with the shorts, cup and jockstrap Jackson wore. He moaned as Jackson squeezed his dick, hand moving easily over it, smearing the precome. Before he could get Jackson’s lower half naked, the shifter was dropping to his knees and running a cold tongue along the underside and Derek exhaled sharply, loving the feel of the chill on his dick. He knew this was wrong, knew he should stop it before someone walked in. He knew it was wrong because Jackson was sixteen.

Still, as Jackson sucked him, the chill of the shifter’s mouth helping him stave off the orgasm that was threatening the moment Jackson touched him, Derek didn’t stop him. He didn’t say anything, he just stared down at the top of Jackson’s messy head, wishing he could see his hair like that more often. How Jackson knew to deep throat and work the head of his dick when it was back there, Derek would never know. He would never ask, as he was certain that mentioning this again would result in him hurting.

A cold hand moved under his shirt, blunt nails scratching down the muscles it could reach. Teeth ran gently along his cock and Derek came with a shout, hands buried in Jackson’s hair, knees locking to keep himself upright. Jackson swallowed, while Derek made sure everything was out. Hands on his hips pushed him back and Jackson blinked up at him, tongue running along his lower lip.

Once he was over his orgasm, Derek fixed his jeans. Jackson shivered and rubbed the small wound on his shoulder, before he stood up and fixed his clothes, pulling on his pads and jersey. He went to Finstock’s office and knocked on the door. Stiles opened it and cleared his throat, glancing at Derek, who was staring at the floor where Jackson had knelt. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t think of a thing.

The shifters left the locker room and Derek did the same thing, figuring that Peter could bring them home. He needed to shower and put what just happened out of his mind. The last thing he needed was Jackson hating him because of it. Yet Jackson had acted as though it was something that always happened. Derek was certain he had never healed Jackson before and received a blowjob as a ‘thank you.’ Sixteen was such a strange age.

* * *

Once the shifters were back home, they were talking and laughing about the rest of practice. Finstock didn’t like the fact that Jackson’s jersey had his blood on it, but there was nothing they could do about that. Well, there was, but they weren’t about to explain how he was able to wash and repair his jersey in the ten minutes they were gone for. Derek stayed in the living room, while Stiles and Jackson went to the study to do their homework.

A mask was thrown onto the coffee table in front of Derek. He glanced at it and then at Peter. Jackson was right. It had been a Collector that he missed. As far as he knew, there were probably a dozen that weren’t in the asylum when he invaded. There might have been some left at the warehouse, where they had tracked the alpha’s scent. There could have been more coming in that found the bodies of their friends. There were dozens of reasons for The Collectors to still be around, but Derek didn’t want to think about that.

Zeus slept by his feet, unbothered by the clatter of the mask. Artemis was patrolling outside. Derek had returned home and showered, telling his mother that Jackson was shot and that the hunter was dead. She had wanted to ask questions, but Derek had just gone upstairs and showered, removing the smell and taste of Jackson’s blood from him. He had retired to the living room and stared at the TV, not seeing the show that was playing.

The police had been called to the school, wanting to investigate the shooting. They couldn’t find the body of the hunter and Jackson had said he received a graze from the bullet. Talia had gone to see the boys and brought them home. The shifters were acting as though nothing had happened, as though Jackson hadn’t been shot, as though… Derek shook his head. He was meant to forget about that, not think of every reason to bring it up.

For the rest of the night, Jackson didn’t look at him. Derek kept his eyes to himself, as well. He wasn’t going to cause a scene. The last thing he needed was his family knowing he had taken advantage of a situation. Derek frowned down at his dinner. That’s what it was. Jackson had been horny because of the healing, because Derek had been making it feel as good as possible. Instead of doing the responsible thing and shoving Jackson away, Derek had pulled him closer.

That night, Derek wanted to patrol the woods, but Talia shook her head. She and Laura would be doing that. Derek shook his head and focused on his report for the book he was reading. He wrote it out, glancing at his bedroom door. One of the dogs was outside, scratching at the door. Frowning, Derek stood up and Zeus entered the room, laying behind his chair at the desk. Derek blinked.

Downstairs, Derek could hear Jackson and Stiles talking, their voices hushed. Peter was upstairs in the shower and the shifters clearly didn’t want anyone overhearing them. Cora had her headphones on, listening to some sappy love song. Shaking his head, Derek left his bedroom and went downstairs. He found the shifters in the living room. Stiles had his legs over Jackson’s hips, who was twisted slightly, stroking one of Stiles’ knees. Derek fought to keep his temper under control.

“It’s late,” he said and the shifters looked at him. “Time for bed.”

Stiles stood up and gave Jackson a hug, which had Derek glaring at the floor. They were silent for a while and Derek knew they were talking via their telepathy. He wanted to know what they were saying, but the way Jackson smiled at Stiles made him grateful he had no idea. Stiles slapped him on the shoulder as he left the living room and Jackson stayed on the sofa.

“It’s time for bed, Jackson,” Derek said, not surprised when he was ignored. “Do I need to drag you up there?”

“I’ll head up after this episode,” Jackson said, not taking his eyes from the TV. “It’s almost finished.”

Derek realized that was the best he could ask for and nodded. Jackson at least acknowledged him and he didn’t seem nervous about being alone with him. Going back to his bedroom, Derek paused when he saw that Zeus was on the bed. He sighed and shook his head, realizing that he couldn’t stop the dog from getting up there. At least Artemis didn’t get on the bed, as well. There would be no room for him.

After checking his report, Derek saved it and emailed it to his professor. He stood up and had pulled his shirt over his head when he felt someone watching him. Looking at the door, he found Jackson staring at him. Derek frowned, wanting to ask what was wrong, when Jackson’s eyes met his and he looked away. There was the scent of anxiety.

“Did you want me to take Zeus back to my bedroom?” Jackson asked, not looking up.

“I thought you would be in here,” Derek said and Jackson closed his eyes, pink staining his cheeks and ears. “We probably should talk about what happened.”

“No,” Jackson said and rubbed his arms. “It didn’t happen.”

Derek growled. He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, but he wasn’t going to act as though it didn’t happen. “Zeus can stay in here tonight,” he said, feeling a petty spark of triumphant when Jackson stared at him.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Jackson said as his eyes hardened. “You should’ve made sure of that.”

“Like I was going to stop my mate from blowing me,” Derek said, ignoring the groans from Cora and Peter.

“Jesus Christ,” Cora said, disgust lacing her words. “We _don’t_ need to hear this!”

“I’m curious,” Stiles said with a grin.

“You aren’t related to either of them,” Peter stated. “Go to sleep and let them…enjoy their foreplay.”

Jackson’s eyes flashed blue and Peter cried out, as did Stiles. “Dick move, Jacks,” Stiles said.

Jackson returned his eyes to Derek and he stepped into the room. “You should have,” he said and Derek frowned when there wasn’t a reaction from the family or Stiles. In fact, he couldn’t hear Stiles. Jackson shrugged. “They don’t want to hear it and I don’t want them hearing it, either.”

“I didn’t know you were going to do anything,” Derek said and crossed his arms. “You’re usually more in control of your emotions.”

Jackson’s eyes fixated on the newest scar on Derek. He shrugged. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he said.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to—”

“I don’t want to hear you say anything about what you want to do to my body,” Jackson said with a glare.

“Are you sure about that?” Derek asked as he stepped closer to Jackson, expecting him to retreat.

“I can’t get involved with anyone, Hale. Why can’t you understand that?” Jackson asked, a pleading edge to his words, as though he was trying to give Derek a way out.

“And I don’t want to live without you. Why can’t you understand that?” Jackson lowered his eyes. “I won’t bring up what happened in the locker room, if you can just tell me how you feel about me,” Derek offered, loving the way Jackson glared at him. “Otherwise,” he went on as he stood in front of Jackson. “I’ll up the flirting.”

Jackson looked up at him and smirked. Derek frowned and his eyes widened as the image of Jackson on his knees in front of him filled his mind. He cursed and stepped back, trying to gain control over his body. “You up the flirting, so will I,” he challenged and Derek swallowed. “It took me by surprise today. It won’t again.”

“Just tell me, Jackson,” Derek said, shoving the image to the side. He could think on it later. “Why can’t you just tell me that you care about me?”

“Because if I say it, then it’s real,” Jackson snapped, eyes cold and hard. “Because if I say it, it’s out in the universe and it’ll come back to bite me in the ass.”

Derek didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t entirely sure if there was anything he could say. “And if it doesn’t?”

Jackson tilted his head. “How do you feel about me, Hale?” he asked.

“You infuriate the hell out of me. Your stubbornness is annoying, at best and fucking _ridiculous_ at worst. You’re smart, but you hate using your brain for something as simple as this! I want to kill you, while keeping you safe and showing you that there is beauty in the world that isn’t just how the blood of a hunter sprays from their body.” Derek sighed softly and lowered his eyes for a moment. “I think I fell in love with you when I was eighteen and I saw you willing to die to protect Stiles.”

Derek studied Jackson’s eyes, watching the way they moved as he tried to find something other than Derek to focus on. Eventually, he stared at him, face and scent neutral, but his eyes always betrayed him. His stance was tense, like he was ready to run, from all of them. His eyes flickered to Zeus for a moment and then returned to Derek, as though tempted to have his dog castrate him.

“I hate that you can read me so well,” Jackson said and lowered his eyes. “I hate that you destroyed my defenses so quickly.”

“Literally took me eight years, but okay.”

“I hate that I feel safe with you. I hate that I feel like I can be happy around you and your family.” Jackson dropped his head, hugging himself. “I hate that you dying is more painful to me than losing my dogs,” he whispered and Derek frowned. “I hate that you make me want to believe in love.”

The last part was barely above a whisper and Derek knew why. Jackson hated being vulnerable. If he let his guard down, people got hurt, people he cared about. Derek knew he shouldn’t try to convince Jackson to stay, as he would always put his family in danger. He knew he should shut Jackson out and treat him as the threat to peace he is. He knew he should do a lot of things, but his wolf always howled the loudest when he was around Jackson, even if they were arguing over something insignificant.

Jackson sighed and raised his head, those diamond like tears clinging to his lashes. “I hate that I want to stay here and be with you, mate with you. I hate that I want to be happy, because of you!”

 _You might think he’s pushing you away because he’s a selfish prick. But that’s where you’re wrong. He’s pushing you away because he wants to save you. If you’re not important to him, you won’t be hunted._ Vincent had looked so relaxed when he said those words to Derek one spring day, at college. He had wanted to give up his protection detail with Jackson, because he was tired of being shoved away, treated like he was beneath the shifter.

 _The only thing anyone knows about his breed is that they live lonely lives. They’re not allowed happiness or a mate. They have to move around constantly, in order to throw hunters off their trail._ Vincent shrugged and tossed a book to Derek, who caught it and frowned at the aged, leather cover. ‘Wolf-Shifters’ was written in gold on the front, which had him looking at Vincent. How long had the dragon had that book for?

 _Snow wolves are never accepted anywhere. The only families that take them on are dragons, because we’re damn near impossible to kill. Give him a reason to stay by your side._ Vincent lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nose, staring at Derek, like he was meant to know what that meant. He had tried everything he could when it came to Jackson, aside from tying him down and restraining him.

 _You’re twenty-one, Derek. How are you this stupid?_ Vincent shook his head and Derek glared at the dragon. He was a werewolf that was meant to protect a wolf-shifter. If it wasn’t for the fact that his family had some strange immunity to Jackson’s magic, Jackson could kill them all. _Show him love. You’ve shown him patience and your anger. Now, you need to show him your love for him._ Vincent smiled and vanished from the dorm.

Derek stared at Jackson. He had no idea how he was meant to show his love for him, especially as he was only sixteen. He needed to wait two years, at the bare minimum before he could mate him, which did not sound very fun. That taste in the locker room had Derek wanting far more than he was comfortable asking of Jackson. His hands ached to hold him, which was probably why he crossed his arms over his chest.

Jackson looked at him and shook his head. “And I hate that your face always makes me want to smile,” he added and exhaled sharply. “There. That’s how I feel about you. I even hate that I love your inability to shave!” He growled and glared at the floor.

Derek raised an eyebrow and moved closer to Jackson, wrapping his arms around the lean shoulders. He loved the way Jackson shivered in his arms, soaking in his warmth. He hated that Jackson was always hesitant to touch him, hold him. It was as though he had some sort of internal struggle, which Derek assumed was what was going on inside the shifter. Did he give in and enjoy the feeling, potentially endangering Derek further? Or did he pull away and remain cold?

Jackson turned his head, resting his cheek on Derek’s chest. Those ridiculously long lashes tickled as he closed his eyes. He wasn’t letting his guard down entirely, but he wasn’t pulling away. That was better than nothing, as far as Derek was concerned. Somehow, he doubted he would ever get Jackson to fully lower his guard and be truly happy with how things were. He would take the small moments, though. These moments where the tension left Jackson entirely, where he felt safe enough to close his eyes and just listen to Derek’s heart. The way he slipped to his knees, as though he knew what Derek really wanted from him. And no, he’s asleep.

Derek cleared his throat, cleaning up his mind and tightening his hold on Jackson. He picked the shifter up and placed him on the bed, throwing the covers over the pale body. Zeus opened his eyes and nuzzled Jackson’s cheek, before he stood up and moved closer to the edge, making room for Derek. Staring at the dog, Derek raised an eyebrow, wondering what the animal was thinking.

Zeus stared back at him, his pupils sparkling silver for a moment. Derek assumed that was the magically protection that Jackson had placed on them. With a frown, he looked at Jackson and tilted his head. Aside from being shot, there wasn’t any reason for Jackson to pass out like that. He stepped out into the hallway, straining his ears. He couldn’t hear anything that should have him alarmed. Whatever Jackson kept doing to Stiles and Peter whenever they said something he disagreed with was fixed.

Tilting his head, Derek went to his uncle’s door and knocked gently. Peter gave him permission and he stepped into the room, seeing Stiles taking up as much room as possible on the queen bed. Peter had a hand in his face and he seemed to be regulating his breathing. When seeing where one of Stiles’ knees were, Derek understood why. At least he only had a dog to worry about.

Peter stared at Derek, waiting for him to speak. Derek searched his eyes, his eyes widening for a moment when he saw the silver spark in Peter’s pupils. “He did it,” he whispered and Stiles murmured something, twitching which had Peter wincing as the knee made contact.

“Who did what?” Peter hissed and gently rolled Stiles onto his side.

“Jackson,” Derek said with a shrug and Peter frowned at him. “He’s magically protected the family.”

Peter’s frown deepened as he stared at Derek. “Like his dogs?” he asked and Derek nodded. “I didn’t think the kid had in it him.”

“I’m not sure if he does,” Derek said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “He passed out. I’m not sure if it’s because he was shot today and because of the spell or if it’s because of just the spell.”

“Where is he?” Peter asked as he sat up, catching Stiles’ hand that was flung towards his face.

“In my bed, with Zeus.” Peter raised an eyebrow and Derek shrugged. “I’m starting to warm up to him. I do prefer Artemis, though. At least I know she’ll only kill me.”

Peter chuckled, placing a foot on Stiles’ leg that twitched. “I’m glad this one doesn’t have dogs, as well. I don’t think we’d be standing if both shifters had pets.”

Derek glanced at Stiles, wondering what his dogs would be like, if he had any. He doubted they would be bred specifically to kill wolves. Of course, Jackson didn’t pick the dogs, Vincent did. Despite knowing that Jackson would be living with werewolves for the vast majority of his early life, Vincent had gone with breeds that seemed to be a middle finger to the Hale pack. Derek would never say or think any of that around Vincent, as he didn’t want to die.

“You should be keeping the wolf warm, nephew,” Peter said softly and Derek nodded.

“Goodnight,” Derek said as he stood and closed the door behind him. In the woods, he could hear his mother and sister patrolling. Artemis was with them. Shaking his head, Derek returned to his bedroom and stripped out of his jeans. He pulled on his pajama pants stepped onto his bed, slipping under the covers. After a few minutes, Jackson nestled into his side, accepting the warmth he produced. Derek smiled and wrapped his arms around him. “Goodnight, Jacks.”

He hadn’t moved their relationship along by the leaps and bounds he wanted, but it was a step closer to where it should be. Derek would accept that, especially as he knew Jackson was eager to give him his lifeforce again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it. If you did, leave a kudos or drop a comment. Now, a word to the sponsors!
> 
> Guest1701: Hi! Thanks for the comment and yes, I love Stiles' devious mind, as well. I'm thinking I might need to bring that into play more often. Yes, I also demand sexy times with them, but things happen and I can't force it. I prefer to have it flow naturally. Also, I realized that you did comment on the previous chapter, but I somehow missed it. So, I'm really sorry about that! I promise not to forget you again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Bernard: ¡Muchas gracias por los corazones morados! Me alegra que hayas disfrutado del capítulo y espero que te guste este también. No puedo esperar a tener noticias tuyas nuevamente. = 3
> 
> Reddy_no_1: Honestly, I expected Jackson to be that way when forced to sleep in someone else's bed. As for what you meant, yeah I understand. Someone they can be comfortable around, to show their true selves to. Yes, Talia is a great mother and alpha. I don't know much about her, but I do know that she was good. I'm glad you liked the training (though, I was hoping to keep Derek as a wolf-shifter, just to watch him blow some stuff up and probably blame Jackson). As for the length of the review, I love, love long reviews, especially if there's something you feel I can improve on. And yes, I agree. A nice Peter is weird, but I like to believe it was the death of his family that sent him bonkers. But I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you liked this one, too! Can't wait to hear from you again. <3
> 
> Tpadimo: Me alegro de que también sea un hombre lobo. Tener más de dos cambiaformas sería ... difícil. Me alegro que les haya gustado la escena final y espero que les haya gustado este capítulo también. Muchas gracias por el comentario.
> 
> Ileria: Hello and welcome! Thank you so much for the comment. I'm glad to know you're enjoying the story and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too. Hope to hear from you again!
> 
> To those that left kudos, thanks so much! You rock.
> 
> Now, just letting y'all know that this story might not be updated for a while. There's a new story that's taken over my mind and NHL is back, baby! So, not gonna lie, most of my days will taken with me watching my teams play. When I do get around to writing, it'll probably be to get that new story out of my head so I can work on this one. The updates will be longer than usual and I apologize for that.
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


	13. A Cold Problem

**~Carnival of Rust~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

* * *

The first thing Jackson did when he woke up was remain still. He thought on the protection spell he had set up the night before and found that it was still in place. It had stayed on the others while he slept and he felt the tension growing between his shoulders disappear. He pressed against the heat source in the bed and was tempted to sleep again, until he remembered that it was Wednesday, which meant they would have a pop quiz in calculus. That wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

Arms tensed slightly and Jackson opened his eyes, staring at a bare chest. Where had he been the night before? After setting the spell, he had gone looking for Zeus and found him in Derek’s bedroom, like the Judas he was. He couldn’t believe his dog was taking to Derek more than his own master. Of course, it was something he wanted and loved seeing that Derek was slowing warming to his pet, but it was still hurtful that Zeus went to Derek’s room instead of his.

Inhaling deeply, Jackson smiled and closed his eyes again. Derek always smelled good, the musk of the wolf, something spicy, almost like cinnamon and there was something sweet. The sweetness wasn’t something that Jackson could pinpoint, but it rounded out the strong scent of the werewolf. As he was about to sleep again, he heard someone approaching Derek’s door.

The door was opened and he felt Derek wake, while Laura called to Zeus. Unlike yesterday, Laura remembered the word Jackson used. “ _Exo_ ,” she said gently and the bed moved, Zeus jumping over them. The door was closed once the dog was out.

If Laura was taking his dogs for breakfast, Jackson knew he needed to wake up and get ready for the day. The problem was he was far too comfortable to move. Derek’s body was stupidly warm and Jackson couldn’t press himself against it enough. He didn’t bother to hide his shivering, which had him internally smirking when Derek held him closer. Suddenly, reality returned to him in a crashing, screeching mess. He couldn’t let his guard down like that again.

Pulling back, Jackson sat on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms above his head. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him as he stood and left the bedroom. Saying a ‘good morning’ wouldn’t have gone astray, but Jackson just didn’t want to admit that waking up in someone’s arms was good. He didn’t like that he was washing Derek’s scent from him, either.

Stiles came out of Peter’s bedroom, yawning. The shifters paused and stared at each other, trying to figure out if Jackson woke up late or if Stiles woke up early. They never went to the bathroom at the same time in the mornings. Jackson was always the early riser and Stiles, sometimes, needed to be dragged from the bed. Jackson grinned and shrugged, walking with Stiles to the bathroom.

While he showered, Stiles brushed his teeth. _You seem happier, man._ Jackson glanced at Stiles through the door of the shower. Honestly, he felt a lot better about life. He knew it was only a matter of time before Stiles either felt the protection or saw it in his eyes. Knowing that the Hale pack was safe for the moment, Jackson didn’t need to freak out about every little thing.

 _I feel happier._ Jackson finished washing and turned off the water, accepting his towel from Stiles. _It’s almost like things are getting better._ He wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped out of the shower, while Stiles stripped and entered. Brushing his teeth, Jackson glanced at his reflection. His eyes still looked tired, which was something he expected. Stretching himself between the spell would take some getting used to.

Waving a hand over his body, Jackson frowned when he wasn’t dried and dressed. Blinking, he waved the hand over his body again and felt the buzzing of his magic, but there was nothing else. “Shit,” he muttered and froze, waiting for Talia to yell at him again. He relaxed when he realized that she was probably still out of the house.

“Just because Mom isn’t here doesn’t mean you can get away with that, Jackson,” Laura called from the kitchen.

Jackson shook his head and left the bathroom, not surprised when he walked into Derek. His mind was stuck on the lack of magic coursing through his veins. He didn’t feel tired, but his magic wasn’t there. He shivered as Derek’s hands rested on his bare skin. He stopped breathing and stared at Derek’s throat, wondering where the hell the need for the werewolf came from. He was going to assume it started around the time he decided to blow Derek.

Exhaling shakily, Jackson raised his eyes and bit his lower lip as Derek ran his fingers along the scar from his clavicle to his hip. Derek fingertips played along the edge of the towel and Jackson felt his body reacting. Thankfully, Peter’s door opened and he cleared his throat, which had Jackson stepping back from Derek. He looked at Peter, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t have him in the bedroom while I’m naked,” Jackson said with a shrug, smirking when Derek froze.

Peter cocked an eyebrow, looking at Jackson’s near naked form for a moment. He shook his head. “Take it to the bedroom,” he said and stepped between Derek and Jackson. “Seriously, nephew? In the hallway?”

Derek’s eyes widened at the implication. “I didn’t plan on this,” he said with a small pout.

Jackson stared at Derek, liking the pout on his face. He frowned and shook his head, moving past Derek and into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and went through his closet, trying to find something to wear that would fit him. He didn’t have the magic to keep his eyes one color, dry and dress himself. He doubted he would have the magic to make any of his clothing fit him.

Staring into his closet, Jackson blinked. He sighed and grabbed pieces that would fit him and were the same brand. If anyone noticed he was wearing last season’s Versace, he would find a way to kick their ass. He dressed as quickly as he could, before his frustration got the better of him. Something in his mind snapped at the idea of wearing last season’s clothing. Lydia would never let him live it down.

Growling, Jackson waved his hand over his body again and he was dressed. His hair was still drying, but he wasn’t going to complain with styling that by hand. “It’s open,” he called when there was a knock on the door.

Stiles entered and dropped onto the bed, staring at Jackson. “How are you doing it?”

“The protection?” Jackson asked and glanced back at Stiles, who nodded. “Not easily. It’s starting to drain me, using my magic for all the basic things.”

“Maybe you should have done one or two at a time, rather than all of us,” Stiles suggested as he sat up.

Jackson turned around and gazed at Stiles. That sounded like a good idea and he was a little annoyed that he didn’t think of it. Instead, he had slapped a spell over five werewolves, a shifter and two dogs. He sat down on the bed, running the towel over his hair. The idea of leaving any of them unprotected, while it would be good for his energy, wasn’t a good one. Anything could happen while he was at school.

His eyes widened when he realized that’s why his attraction to Derek was showing. He didn’t have the energy to keep it hidden and he growled. Suddenly, the idea of leaving someone unprotected, just so he can shove down his attraction, was a very good idea. Derek shouldn’t be so prevalent in his mind, but that’s really all he found he was thinking about. Derek shirtless. Derek’s tongue on his body…

Shaking his head, Jackson dropped the towel over his head. He couldn’t go to school, if he was going to drift into daydreams about Derek and pop random boners. His eyes widened when he realized he was going to be running to the bathroom several times, if he went to school. He let out a shuddering breath and removed the towel, staring out the open bedroom door.

“Are you all right?” Stiles asked and Jackson shook his head. “What’s wrong? I don’t even remember popping random boners during puberty.”

“The pain wasn’t the pleasurable sort.” Jackson stood up and started pacing. “I can’t go to school in this state!”

“In what state?”

“Oh god.” Jackson turned his back to Derek and actually placed his hands over his ears. “Get him _out_ of here!”

Jackson hummed as Stiles spoke to Derek, trying to explain the situation. Unfortunately, Derek’s voice seemed to pierce every kind of attempt to block him out. “Isn’t that normal?” Derek asked, staring at Jackson.

Turning around, Jackson glared at Derek. “No! It isn’t normal for a shifter to feel like a bitch in heat!”

Derek blinked at him, eyes dropping to his crotch. He smirked and Jackson growled, turning around again. “I could always help with it,” he offered and Jackson glared over his shoulder.

“He’s not wrong, Jacks,” Stiles said with a shrug and Jackson stared at him, feeling completely betrayed. “Maybe all you need is a good time.” He smiled and walked out of the bedroom. “But he’s right. He can’t go to school.”

“Unless Derek leaves, I can’t stay here, either,” Jackson said, dropping his head.

“You can stay confined to the bedroom,” Derek said. “Stiles can bring your homework back and tomorrow, you better control your hormones, so you don’t miss the history test.”

Jackson nodded and the bedroom door closed, letting him strip and create a small blizzard indoors. If he was too cold, he could easily forget about the raging hard on he had and focus on something far better, like how to simplify the spell he had on the Hale pack. At least, he would do that if his mind wasn’t consumed almost entirely with the fact that Derek was within the house.

Covering his face with his hands, Jackson tried not to cry. The snow was a foot deep in the room and he had a strange heat in his body that didn’t seem to make him affected by the cold. He face planted the snow and rolled around in it, trying to cool his core temperature. If he stayed that hot for too long, it would lead to problems and he wasn’t going to get sick because his body couldn’t handle him doing a little magic.

Laying in the snow, Jackson opened his eyes, watching as more fell. He thought about the protection spell, which was basic in its conception. It made it so those under it wouldn’t be injured. Only those that could sense magic could tell if someone was protected, which had Jackson a little worried. Hunters had all sorts working with them. They even had spell-breakers, which terrified him.

Sitting up, snow falling from his body, Jackson crossed his legs and closed his eyes. He found the silver threads that linked him to everyone under the protection spell. He ignored the two that belonged to his dogs, thinking on using less power for them. The spell was simple, but it was very effective. He didn’t need to use a bunch of magic for it, which made him question why he was.

Opening his eyes, Jackson sighed. He couldn’t half-ass something, especially when it came to those he cared about. While making the spell less powerful wouldn’t be a bad thing, he needed to learn how to use his full magic while keeping enough aside for the usual things, like keeping his emotions and hormones in check. Missing out on school because he couldn’t keep his dick down wasn’t a good thing. He hated his body at times.

* * *

“Jesus Christ, Jacks!”

Jackson opened his eyes and sat up, three feet of snow falling from his body. He looked around and found Stiles standing at the door, shoveling his way into the room. Jackson blinked and brushed the snow from the alarm clock beside the bed. He saw that it was nearly six in the evening, which had him frowning. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but with keeping the snow storm going and trying to lessen his magic on the spell, he must have been more tired than he realized.

“Sorry, man,” Jackson said and laid down again, still feeling too hot to get up and be around the pack. “How was practice?”

“Finstock was pissed that you weren’t there, as you finished out practice yesterday, after being shot,” Stiles said, standing in the waist-deep snow. “Can you turn off the snow?” Jackson mumbled and the snow stopped falling. “I’m guessing nothing changed?”

“Nope,” Jackson answered and turned his head. “Still horny.”

Stiles bit his lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “I think it might be time to talk to Vincent. He could probably tell you where you’re going wrong,” he suggested and Jackson groaned.

The idea of bringing Vincent in wasn’t a good one. Jackson got the feeling that Vincent would just tell him to bang Derek and get it out of his system. The dragon was a very firm believer in doing what the body wanted, which wasn’t a good method for Jackson. He enjoyed the lessons with Vincent, but when it came to life, Vincent didn’t believe in holding anything back. It was all about ‘taking the bull by the horns.’

Talia stood at the door and her eyes widened as she looked at the room. “You better clean this up when you’re feeling better, Jackson,” she said, hands on her hips. “Can you tell me why you were home from school today?”

Jackson sighed and shoved his head under the snow, feeling the heat on his face. Admitting to the person that was basically his mother that he was horny and couldn’t get rid of an erection was somewhat embarrassing. Stiles giggling at his reaction didn’t help, either. Jackson was certain Derek would have explained why he was still home when she came back in from patrol.

Pulling his head back, Jackson looked at Talia. “My magic is being spread too thin,” he said quietly, pouting when Peter stood beside Talia, also curious. The smirk on the male werewolf’s face had Jackson glaring at him. “And because my magic is spread so thin…I can’t keep my emotions and hormones under control. I’m basically a bitch in heat.”

Talia’s eyes softened as she made her way into the bedroom, shivering as the snow melted around her warm body. She pushed the snow off a section of the bed and sat down, placing a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Why is your magic running that thin?”

“Someone decided to magically protect us,” Peter answered, pulling Stiles to his side and nuzzling the side of his head. “Hopefully not out of guilt.”

“Peter,” Stiles said, glancing at the werewolf sharply. “Let him be miserable in peace.” He returned his eyes to Jackson and smiled gently. “I put your homework in the study.”

“Thanks.” Jackson sighed as Stiles and Peter left the doorway and the looked at Talia. “It might take a couple of days for my magic to sort itself out,” he said.

“I’m calling Vincent,” Talia said as she stood. “You have a test tomorrow, Jackson. I can’t have you failing any of your lessons because of something like this.”

Jackson moved to his knees, more snow falling from his body as he stared at Talia. “Wasn’t it bad enough when you sent me to school during puberty? Can’t I get a couple of days to sort my shit out?”

Talia’s eyes widened. “Jackson,” she snapped with a glare. “I was almost ready to agree with you. Consider it punishment for swearing.”

Jackson whined and pouted, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. He huffed and nodded, watching as she made her way out of the bedroom. He had no idea how long it would take Vincent to arrive and tell him what he already knew. As long as he got an extra few hours without being disturbed, he could sleep and subconsciously work on his magic.

\--

It was cold, so cold. Jackson managed to force his eyes open, realizing that his teeth were chattering and his muscles were cramping, attempting to lock in warmth that didn’t exist. He stared at the ceiling, eyes fluttering as he just wanted to sleep, slip into the darkness and never wake again. His heart thudded as he realized what was happening and looked at the door, which was still closed.

His mind was screaming at him to get warm and Jackson agreed with it entirely. The only problem with that was he couldn’t move to get warm. He couldn’t muster the energy to move. The snow on and around his body was almost laughing at him. He didn’t have the energy to open his mouth and call out to someone. His mind was telling him to think of someone and get them there. Listening, Jackson realized that everyone was asleep.

“Help?” His voice was barely above a croaked whisper. His throat ached at the vibrations and he closed his eyes again, before he forced them open.

Somewhere outside the room, he heard someone yell out in surprise, which woke the others. A door opened and footsteps moved down the hallway. Jackson winced as the shivering made his cramped muscles move and tighten more. The door to the bedroom opened and Zeus jumped onto the bed. Jackson’s eyes half-closed as he felt warmth spread over his body.

“Shit, Jackson,” Derek said as he stared down at him.

Zeus moved and Jackson whined at the loss of heat. He hissed as Derek’s hands felt like they were burning him as he was picked up and moved out of the bedroom. If anyone would ask, Jackson would claim it was the way Derek picked him up that him clinging to the werewolf like a newborn babe. He tried to get as much contact with the heat source as possible, closing his eyes and letting a goofy smile slip onto his face.

“Stiles, need you in my bedroom,” Derek said as he placed Jackson on the bed. Jackson shivered and curled into a ball.

Stiles entered the room and his eyes widened. His hands glowed red as he ran them over Jackson’s body, who moaned quietly and closed his eyes, enjoying the heat that was spreading through him, banishing the last of the ice that was clinging to him. Once his muscles relaxed, Jackson stretched out and shivered as Stiles pulled back.

“Thanks,” Jackson said as he sat up, running a hand over his body, dressing in his pajamas. “Sorry about waking everyone,” he added, curling his toes and cracking the joints.

Stiles glared at him, appearing ready to punch him, before he hugged him. “You could’ve died, you idiot!” he hissed, tightening his arms.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jackson said as he stood up and returned the hug. “I wasn’t expecting my magic to settle while I was asleep.” He pouted when Stiles pulled back, missing the warmth. “And while I was surrounded by six feet of snow.”

Stiles shook his head. “I’m going back to bed,” he said and left the room, closing the door.

Jackson glanced at Derek, the werewolf staring at him. He sighed quietly and dropped his eyes, unsure what Derek was thinking. Almost dying wasn’t something he wanted to experience, especially at the hands of his own stupidity. He should have woken the moment he felt a little cold, in order to get out of the room and find someone or something warm. He shouldn’t have continued to sleep.

“I should…probably clean up the snow,” Jackson said and cleared his throat. Derek was still staring at him. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Jackson tensed when Derek hugged him tightly. He shivered and relaxed against the warmth of the werewolf, feeling his eyes close. If it wasn’t for the fact that he really should clean up the snow, he could happily fall asleep there, despite the amount of sleep he got during the day. He went to pull back, but Derek growled and held him tighter. Jackson looked over his shoulder, expecting Zeus to defend him. The dog scratched his ear.

“O-Okay,” Jackson said, placing his hands on Derek’s ribs. “This is getting weird now.”

Jackson knew he should be pushing Derek back, but his hands sort of moved around the ribs, taking in the muscles and the feel of the bones. They slipped around to the back and Jackson told himself that he should stop with the touching, before something happened that they couldn’t undo. Instead, he stepped closer to Derek, shivering and nuzzling into his throat.

A low growl sounded in the back of Derek’s throat as Jackson licked the skin, moaning softly. He hissed quietly as Derek’s hands slipped under his shirt, leaving their burning path along his skin. His head fell back and his eyes closed as Derek attacked his throat with teeth and tongue. Honestly, he should have known that his magic wasn’t entirely set because of that alone and he didn’t care. He just ripped the shirt Derek was wearing from his body and let his fingers explore the taut skin of the werewolf’s torso.

His fingers brushed over the scar on the shoulder and Derek growled, shoving Jackson away and turning his back to the shifter. Jackson looked at Zeus. “ _Makriá apó_ ,” he ordered and the dog stepped off the bed, laying on the floor.

Jackson grabbed Derek’s arm and threw him onto the bed. The werewolf stared up at him with surprise, though didn’t push him away as he looked at the almost flawless chest. There was a thin scar over the heart, where the knife had cut him. Jackson straddled his hips and leaned down, placing kisses along the scar and up to Derek’s throat, loving how hot and heavy the hand on his hip was. Both hands slipped under his shirt and Derek sat up, removing the shirt more delicately than Jackson had.

Derek changed their position and looked at the scars on the muscle that connected shoulder and neck, lightly brushing his fingers over it. He dropped his head and Jackson bit his lower lip as that hot tongue ran along the scar on his chest, from where the hunter had stabbed him. He moved down, lips and tongue tasting as he went and Jackson trying so hard not to moan as his back arched into the touch.

Moving across to his hip, Derek’s tongue slid along the scar from hip to clavicle as his hand pressed against the erection Jackson was sporting. Jackson’s eyes widened. “Fuck!” he breathed, hips rocking to get more of that delicious friction. It came to his attention that he was a complete virgin. He and Stiles had such hectic lives that they literally didn’t have time for a wet dream, let alone the real thing.

Derek went in for Jackson’s throat again, teeth, tongue and lips as a hand slipped inside the pants. Jackson cried out and sat up suddenly, wincing at the heat of Derek’s hand around him. It burned and he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. He hadn’t even thought about Derek being hot blooded when it came to sex. Probably because he never thought about Derek and sex.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked and removed his hand.

“You’re really hot,” Jackson said, biting his lower lip as he stared at his tent.

“Shit,” Derek said and stood up. “I didn’t even think of that.”

Jackson nodded. Neither of them had. With a deep, shuddering breath, Jackson looked up at him. “I’m not ready for your mouth anywhere near my dick,” he said and Derek raised an eyebrow. “But try your hand again. Maybe I can get used to it.”

Derek nodded and tugged Jackson’s pants down, grabbing a bottle of lube that Jackson had noticed before. The cold drizzle didn’t affect him, which he found strange. However, it heated up quickly in Derek’s hand, which had him laying back and thinking on it. With the lubrication, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. The heat didn’t seem quite as intense as the first time.

Jackson relaxed and tilted his head back, biting his lower lip as Derek kissed up his body. “Fuck,” he hissed as Derek’s tongue flicked over a nipple.

Derek smirked and flicked his tongue over the nipple again. Jackson whined and twisted, Derek’s hand moving horribly slowly, as though Jackson actually had time for this. He growled and bucked his hips, which made Derek look up at him. There was a reason why he blew Derek so quickly the previous day. He needed to get back out to practice, just as he needed Derek to finish with this, so he could work on his magic a little more,

A hard stroke and Jackson winced. Derek frowned and tilted his head, increasing his speed and keeping the pressure the same. Jackson shivered, legs spreading as he fucked up into Derek’s hand. He kept his eyes locked with Derek’s, who was watching him as though he wanted to memorize his face. Jackson gasped as Derek’s speed increased again, his breathing ragged as he felt the pressure building.

Jackson shivered as Derek’s thumb swiped around the head of his cock. He frowned as he felt a finger circling his ass and Derek smirked, before he nuzzled into Jackson’s throat. The finger pushed in and Jackson whined, hands gripping Derek’s strong shoulders. He relaxed his body, despite knowing he should stop everything that was happening. He and Derek shouldn’t be doing anything like this, but Jackson didn’t care, especially when Derek’s finger massaged that spot deep in him that had him gasping and arching, trying to shove the finger in further.

A second finger was added and Jackson couldn’t sit still. He wanted something more than just the fingers in him. Looking at Derek, he went to ask about it, when Derek covered his mouth. Jackson’s eyes widened, thinking on his first kiss, which he received from Lydia when he was ten. This was different. It wasn’t as soft as the one Lydia planted on him. This one was firm, making a statement that the mouth belonged to him.

Jackson tilted his head slightly and Derek’s fingers tickled that spot again, which had him gasping. Derek’s tongue slipped into his mouth and Jackson shivered, throwing an arm around Derek’s neck and trying to pull him closer. He moaned softly as his tongue slid along Derek’s, tasting everything that was the werewolf. Between the kiss and the fingers, Jackson didn’t even realize that one of Derek’s hands was on the back of his neck.

It took a few moments, but Jackson finally learned how to work his lips in the kiss. His tongue explored Derek’s mouth, loving the small growls he elicited. It took a little longer for him to realize that he could move body parts separately. His hips moved down on the fingers, as his mouth tried to memorize everything that was Derek. His hands got lost in Derek’s thick hair, nails running along his scalp. He felt sharp teeth pierce his lip, his blood becoming a part of their dance and Derek’s growl was almost animalistic.

The pressure kept building in Jackson, until he finally came, scream lost in Derek’s mouth, ass clenched around the fingers. His hands ripped back Derek’s head and his mouth attached to the throat, teeth breaking the skin and he moaned as Derek’s blood coated his tongue. Derek panted and Jackson pulled back, eyes dropping to the jeans the werewolf was still wearing, as the fingers were removed.

“Is it your turn?” Jackson asked and Derek shook his head. Footsteps coming up the stairs made Jackson frown. He looked towards the door and waved a hand over his body, cleaned up and dressed as someone knocked.

“I would love to clean up that quickly,” Derek muttered as he got off the bed and reset himself in his jeans. He opened the door and stood to the side.

“Vincent!” Jackson screamed and launched off the bed, hugging the dragon tightly.

Vincent laughed and returned the hug, glaring at Derek when a growl rumbled in his chest. Derek quickly looked away. “Hello, _mikros_ ,” he said as he set Jackson on his feet. “Oh, not so little, anymore.” He held Jackson’s jaw, turning his head. “He has a thing for freckles, I see and pretty boys.”

Jackson glared at Derek. “Yeah, he likes his twinks,” he said and Derek narrowed his eyes.

“Like you haven’t been enjoying the benefits of it, as well,” Derek said and Jackson grinned, before he hugged Vincent again.

“Come down to the kitchen,” Vincent said as he pulled back. “If you two can keep your hands off each other for an hour, we need to talk about your magic consumption.”

Once Vincent left the doorway, Jackson turned to Derek, hand on the crotch of his jeans. “This is mine when I get back,” he said, not realizing that he sounded more threatening than promising.

Derek blinked and nodded, which had Jackson smiling and going downstairs. He joined Vincent in the kitchen and created two cups of peppermint tea. He sat on the chair beside Vincent, pulling a foot onto the seat and grinning at the dragon. Vincent hadn’t changed in the slightest. He still looked like a twenty-eight year old man, with olive skin and warm eyes.

“How’s it going with that air lion?” Jackson asked and sipped his tea.

“He’s as annoying as you were at that age,” Vincent answered with a smirk and lit a cigarette. “He’s learning slowly what he’s capable of, which is good. Savannah has been helping him with his water magic.” He exhaled smoke and glanced up at the ceiling. “Looks like things are finally going somewhere with you and him.”

“Literally started today,” Jackson said with a shrug. He gazed down at his tea, running a finger along the rim of the cup. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I’m still terrified that…” He sighed and closed his eyes.

“I know, _mikros_.” Vincent placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, squeezing it. “It’ll get easier. The Prince said you turned him into a wolf-shifter.”

“It was an accident,” Jackson said and opened his eyes. “Of course I can’t seem to do one thing right. Did he also tell you that I put myself and Stiles up for auction?”

Vincent sipped his tea. “He might have mentioned it.” He lowered the cup and gazed at Jackson. “You seem ashamed of that, Jax. Why?”

“We’re both protected species. Stiles was unconscious when I made the deal. He didn’t get a say in it, but he just accepted that it was life.” Jackson sighed and sat back, glaring at the door across the room. “I was stupid and reckless that night. I should have done something else, other than fuck everything up.”

A glass ashtray appeared on the table and Vincent crushed out his cigarette. “Are you saying you’re not happy?”

Jackson lowered his eyes, a pout settling on his face. “It isn’t as bad as thought it would be. Stiles seemed really happy, though. I really should make him a cake and apologize for the auction thing.”

“I asked if _you_ were happy, _mikros_.” Jackson shrugged. Vincent sipped his tea. “Did you know that not admitting doesn’t make it any less real?”

“I know.”

“Then just admit it.”

“Fine! I’m happy here. Now that my dogs are here, I’ve got several things to keep me here.” Jackson sighed and sat back, glaring at the table. “I’m just going fuck up everything, though. Being happy, trusting others… It still terrifies me, Vincent.”

“I know,” Vincent said and placed an arm around Jackson’s shoulders. “It’ll take a little time, but you’ll see that being happy isn’t anything to fear.”

“What if—?”

“You’ll kill yourself with ‘what if’ questions, _mikros_. What if the Prince didn’t show up the night your parents were murdered? What if Derek arrived at the asylum a few minutes later? What if you weren’t shot yesterday?” Vincent shrugged and smiled when Jackson glared at him. “Your mind might be shielded, but Derek’s is not.”

“I know,” Jackson groaned and tilted his head back. “Trying to explain what he needs to do is like telling a tree to stop breathing.” He shook his head and rubbed his neck. “According to Stiles, all of them need to work on their defenses. If The Collectors pull out their telepaths, it’ll be over before it begins.”

“No, it won’t,” Vincent said and squeeze Jackson’s shoulder. “Do you really think any of us would let you or the wolves face this alone? The Prince is on inventory at the moment, otherwise this wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

Jackson leaned forward, resting his chin on his knee. “How can I protect them all from harm? I can feel that my spell isn’t on anyone in the house, except my dogs.”

“Show me the spell,” Vincent said and Jackson held out his hand, a ball of silver light appearing in it. Vincent tilted his head. “You don’t need to make them immortal, _mikros_. Just make it so they can’t be harmed.”

Jackson swallowed and lowered his eyes. “If they aren’t immortal, they’ll age and die,” he whispered.

“That’s life, Jax. People live and they die.” Vincent ruffled Jackson’s hair. “You just have to enjoy the time you have with them, which has been extended since you killed Kate Argent.”

Jackson growled and thunder rumbled over the house. He closed his hand over the spell and then his eyes, trying to calm down. Once the storm outside disappeared, he opened his eyes. “I hate her,” he said quietly.

“I know. She touched what was yours.” Vincent sat back and lit a cigarette. “I also saw what you did to her.” He winced and then smirked. “You really are nothing like what your breed says.”

Jackson straightened and looked at Vincent. “No one knows what my breed is like, except what was normal over a hundred years ago. Maybe I’m nothing like those wolves, because they weren’t forced to live with a pack. They didn’t have anything to die for or anyone to care about.”

Vincent smirked and raised an eyebrow. Jackson frowned and slumped in the chair. That’s why he had been sent to California. It had nothing to do with him being protected, but so he could learn how to protect others that weren’t his dogs. He was forced to care about others, so he could see that he wouldn’t be alone in life. Even if Derek hadn’t been his mate, he would have made connections and friendships. It only took him eight years to learn that.

“The Hale pack was chosen because they’re immune to your magic, which meant you couldn’t literally freeze them out,” Vincent explained and Jackson looked at him. “They were also chosen because of Derek being your mate.” He smiled and pushed Jackson’s hair back from his eyes.

“You and Tsuki were conspiring against me since the day I was born?”

“ _Mikros_ ,” Vincent murmured and pulled Jackson against him, hugging him with an arm. “You seemed to think you were happy in Pennsylvania. Look at how you are now. You’re relaxed, open and loving. You aren’t as standoffish as you used to be and you’re actually _smiling_.”

Jackson lowered his eyes. He hadn’t changed that much, until he thought on the last few weeks. Being auctioned off and then rescued seemed to give him a different outlook on life. Knowing that the Hale pack would come to his rescue was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he had a pack that had his back. A curse because he feared he would lose them.

“If you say so,” Jackson said with a shrug.

“Nice try,” Vincent said with a chuckle and crushed out his cigarette.

Jackson pouted and lowered his eyes, mixing the new spell in his mind. He found the life links of everyone in the house and poured the spell into their beings without them realizing. He frowned and tilted his head, feeling the buzzing moving through his body, before it exploded along the links. Inhaling deeply, Jackson closed his eyes and frowned, keeping the magic up.

Blinking his eyes open, Jackson tilted his head. He could feel the magic buzzing through his body, letting him know that the spell was active. The buzzing grew until it settled and Jackson sat back, staring at the door. He could feel the gentle buzz that was running through his body, which told him that he was feeding magic into the spell and would likely do so for the rest of the night, until it was powered enough to run on its own.

“Good job,” Vincent said as he stared at Jackson. “You made that look easy.”

“It was,” Jackson said and glanced at Vincent. “Should it be that easy?”

“It’s a spell you’re familiar with. You just removed an element of it, which made it simpler than before.” Vincent shrugged. “For you, it might be easy. For Stiles, it might take a little time. Have you been helping him?”

“I think you already know the answer to that,” Jackson said with a roll of his eyes. “He can create lightning.” He smiled for a moment, before he shook his head. “He fears it.”

“I know,” Vincent sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. “Dmitri was the dragon that saved him when he was six.” Jackson nodded and Vincent sighed quietly. “It’ll take some time for him to get over that fear. He’ll do it, but you need to be something you rarely are – patient.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, but nodded as he understood it. Stiles had been unbelievably patient with him, as had the entire Hale pack. Helping Stiles get over his fear of the lightning was something Jackson would do, simply because Stiles was his brother. He would be damned if his brother was going to fear an element he could create and control. That would be like him fearing his air. Still, he hadn’t been trying to help and then lose a parental figure.

“I told you he was good for you,” Vincent said and Jackson glared at him.

“I didn’t have much of a choice when it came to him, did I?”

Vincent tilted his head. “You never had a choice in anything, _mikros_. That’s why you fought everything so violently. Now that you have everything you need, you need to fight violently to keep it.” He stood up and placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulders. “I believe your mate is asleep, which is what you should be doing. You have a test tomorrow.”

Jackson blinked and then groaned. “I haven’t even studied for it!”

Vincent smiled. “Go to bed, _mikros_.”

“Goodnight, Vincent.” Jackson stood and went upstairs. He slipped into Derek’s bedroom and found him asleep under the covers. Jackson tilted his head and smiled, getting under the covers. He shivered as Derek’s arms automatically wrapped around him and pulled him close. “Goodnight,” he murmured and tucked his head under Derek’s, a stupid smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! Now, a word to the sponsors:
> 
> Guest1701: Thanks for the comment! I mean, of course sexy times had to happen at some stage. I've thought about writing a Stackson story, but quickly shoved it aside. I prefer ships that aren't all too popular - hence Halemore. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Reddy_no_1: Hello, my dear! Oh my gosh, I know what you mean. I'm the only person in my friend circle that's even seen the show! I was like, "Guys, there's Derek! And Jackson! THERE'S DEREK AND JACKSON! WATCH IT!" They just weren't interested. So I've got no one to talk to about this. As for the rest of the review, I can't exactly tell when Jackson realized he liked Derek just a little more than the others. I wanted that ambiguous. And yes, I'll see to it that Derek gets some Greek lessons. Maybe Jackson can teach him while he's helping Stiles with his lightning. And yes, captain Jackson is one of the best Jacksons. Thank you so much for that comment! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to hear from you again!
> 
> Tpadimo: ¡Hola querida! Gracias por el comentario. Me alegra saber que disfrutó del capítulo. Espero que también hayas disfrutado de este. Espero saber de ti otra vez.
> 
> Bernard: ¡Hola, Bernard! Gracias por el comentario. Sí ... pero no lo culpo por tener miedo de Zeus. ¡Yo también lo estaría! ¡Espero que hayas disfrutado de este capítulo y no puedo esperar a tener noticias tuyas de nuevo! También me disculpo por la larga actualización.
> 
> Erikvio: Hello and welcome! Thank you so much for that comment. Shifter hunters aren't usually going against protected breeds, which is where their over-confidence comes from. But I'm glad you noticed that! Jackson's friendship with Stiles is my favorite part, too. There will be more of it in the future, I promise! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and hope to hear from you again!
> 
> WannaBetOnThat: I really hope you stopped reading this story, if it angered you that much. I'm sorry that it wasn't to your liking and I hope you're happier now.
> 
> To those that left kudos and bookmarked, thanks a bunch! Hope y'all enjoyed this update.
> 
> Next update may not be until the end of February. Just a heads up. (NHL and all.)
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed. Chapters will be posted sporadically , thanks to the holiday season.  
> If you enjoyed, drop a kudo or a comment. Will thank/discuss when the next chapter is posted.  
> Until then, I hope y'all have a great holiday season. Be safe and be happy!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


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